


infinity times infinity

by transvav



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: M/M, Sky Factory AU, Temporary Character Death, gavin is the sun, jeremy is a blood mage/botanist, later on tho things get Choppy, ryan is the moon, you know how it goes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-02-07 00:08:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12829080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transvav/pseuds/transvav
Summary: The darkness was painful, some had said, and without a torch to guide you and to warm you, then you would surely be torn apart by it. Some thought it was victory‒ the god of Night had won in his battle, and in celebration was wiping out the weak. Others, like Jeremy, thought it was sadness, or anger. The night god had lost his love, and the people had lost their light.The sun was gone. The Solar one had been taken.





	1. the dusk

No one could tell how long it had been. Villages were shut completely down, candles burning at their wicks, lights flickering in frosted windows, darkness knocking at the cracks. Few brave souls would venture out into what the cities had begun to call eternal midnight‒ the darkness was painful, some had said, and without a torch to guide you and to warm you, then you would surely be torn apart by it. Some thought it was victory‒ the god of Night had won in his battle, and in celebration was wiping out the weak. Others, like Jeremy, thought it was sadness, or anger. The night god had lost his love, and the people had lost their light.

The sun was gone. The Solar one had been taken.

Jeremy was a dark mage first and a nature mage second, but either way he knew that the Solar god was essential to their world, and another part of him knew that the Night had not wanted it at all. Jeremy was a traveler by trade, never stopping in one place for too long, and even when midnight had begun, he continued. The reason he knew was because even in midnight, the stars gleamed, and every so often, when Jeremy looked up, there was a bright new star in a new place, like a sad plea of calling, a bargain to whoever had done this. The wind whistled in the air and if Jeremy focused on the earth enough it was like something was echoing down towards it from the heavens like a heartbeat, begging, _bring him back, bring him back, bring him back._

And eventually, just after a new star had appeared, Jeremy met someone on a road leading to the old temples.

The stranger shook on the frosted dirt, staring up towards the brightest star, hands clasped to their face. There were things about them, though, that made Jeremy pause like he almost never did for strangers.

There was no torch by their feet, no lamp in their grasp, no candle or even a match around them, and they stood unharmed in the darkness, covered in a white sheet, with gold fabric wrapped around their arms and waist, barefoot and alone. But they were _glowing_ , golden hair brighter than any flame or star or beacon Jeremy had ever seen, casting a soft halo of light around them on the icy ground.

“Gods,” Jeremy said, and the stranger jumped. “You must be freezing‒ here, take my cloak, it’s lined with wool and furs, it’ll keep you warm.”

“You’re very kind,” the stranger said in a soft accented voice, and Jeremy smiled up at them only to freeze.

His eyes were a shimmering, ever-shifting gold, red rimmed as they were, and there were tears streaming down his face. “I’m‒ I’m sorry,” Jeremy stammered. “Are you alright? Are you lost? An acolyte of the churches, maybe?”

The stranger laughed, but it was quiet and full of hurt. “In a way, I suppose, I’m very lost but‒” he choked on a sob and looked up towards the new star again. “He’s looking for me, at least.”

With his heart in his throat, and his stomach heavy, and the answer already in his mind, Jeremy tentatively asked, “Who’s looking for you? Where are you trying to go?”

“The god of Night,” the Solar god answered, and reached his fingertips towards the stars. “I need to go _home._ ”

 

“My name is Gavin,” he told Jeremy as they continued. He cast an unusual warmth from himself and Jeremy couldn’t help but walk a little closer, just for the protection the god gave from the bitterness of the dark.

“You... have a name? A human name, no less?”

The god laughed, soft and sweet, and Jeremy smiled too‒ it was almost hard not to. “My dad gave it to me, and one to Ryan as well.”

“I’m sorry, did you say _Ryan_? The God of Eternal Midnight, king of the moon and of monsters, is named...”

“Ryan, yes!” Gavin giggled, pulling the edges of the cloak closer to himself. “And he’s not king of all monsters, you know.”

“Well, most of them, right? The ones that come out at night.”

“Yes, but the ones that listen to me don’t usually come to your surfaces, I believe.”

“I’m sorry, _surfaces_?”

Gavin smiled kindly at him. “I forget that some of you are unaware of the other dimensions that reside on the same space as your own. The Nether is one of my domains as well.”

“The Nether is a hellscape, though, isn’t it? A god of creation ruling over an area as doomed as that?”

Gavin laughed, startled, and a few glimmers of light broke free from his hair like fireflies, hovering around his head before dancing slowly towards the floor. “You think I’m the god of _creation_ , Jeremy?”

Jeremy looked at him for a long while in confusion. “Aren’t you? The Solar one, keeper of warmth, giver of light to all life and nature’s prosperity. Why wouldn’t you be a god of creation? You’re a god of _light_.”

“Of light, yes,” Gavin hummed. “But light burns, like fires, and can turn everything to nothing in time. I’m not the god of _creation_ , Jeremy- I’m the opposite.”

Jeremy glanced at the specks of light again and somewhere in the back of his mind, a voice warned him of what warm ashes looked like, still alight and falling from the sky. He pulled his thin jacket tighter to himself, and Gavin noticed.

“Stay close to me,” he said softly. “I wouldn’t want you to freeze to death over this.”

“I need to rest,” Jeremy told him. “It’s been a long few cycles, and I haven’t eaten in awhile. Although,” he backtracked, “I’m not sure I have enough for two...”

“Oh, it’s fine,” Gavin laughed. “I have no need for sustenance‒ eat and rest, I’ll keep watch.”

He made a small fire out of nothing and had it hover in midair while Jeremy prepared the area with protection sigils on rocks, just in case. He spread his bedroll and gnawed on monster jerky and roasted corn, warming his hands on the fire and laying down to watch the flames. After a while he closed his eyes and let his breath even out. He waited patiently to fall asleep, the god’s fire warmer than ones Jeremy usually made on his own. After a while, though, in the silence, he heard Gavin call softly out to the sky.

“I don’t know if you can hear me,” he said. “But I hope you know it’s not your fault.”

Jeremy swallowed and stayed very still, praying not to make a sound and intrude on what felt like a private conversation between Gavin and the stars.

“It’s strange, down here. My feet can feel the earth and the rocks and the wind is gentle against my skin, like you’ve always been with me. It feels funny,” he laughed softly, but Jeremy could almost hear his smile fall. “I wish you were here.”

Gavin shifted slightly and Jeremy felt the flame flicker down for just a second, like it was put out and relit in the matter of a second. The god sneezed slightly, and Jeremy jumped at the suddenness. There was silence for a while before Jeremy felt his cloak being lain softly over him and the fire moving closer. Gavin started humming something almost haunting, but soothing‒ Jeremy felt magic in it before his eyes closed and he slipped in the darkness he was comfortable with.

 

When Jeremy woke, he noticed that Gavin had moved closer to him, still glowing brighter than the embers of the fire he’d created. There was a new star in the sky, and the wind was howling around them in circles. Jeremy could feel a storm in the air, electricity crackling at the hairs on the back of his neck.

“We should move,” he said quietly, and blinked as Gavin startled next to him, clearly unexpecting his awakening. His glow flared and brightened as he stood slowly, his gaze turning back upwards. Jeremy stood as well, packing his things up, watching a rolling darkness blot out the stars in the not so far distance.

“I don’t understand,” Gavin whispered. “What’s...”

“Things have gotten worse, in midnight,” Jeremy explained, offering Gavin his cloak. The god turned to him, confused. “Storms and monsters‒ there are tales that if you stay too long without light, the darkness itself begins to tear into you. He’s _angry_ , Gavin.”

“Worried,” the Solar god mumbled. “Angry, yes, but worried.”

“Please,” Jeremy insisted, holding the cloak out again. “Please, we have to go. The storms are so much more.”

“I don’t get cold,” Gavin said, and took the cloak to tie it around Jeremy. “You’ll need it more than I will.”

Jeremy nodded and wrapped it tighter around himself, watching as the wind began to whip through Gavin’s golden hair. He picked up his lantern, unlit, and began to walk north, where he knew of a settlement that was protected by a wanderer mage friend of his and a few acolytes. Gavin fell into step beside him, glancing over his shoulder every time thunder rumbled. Eventually the wind began to scream behind them, lightning beginning to crash against the iced earth, and the one time Jeremy paused to look back, he watched as a bolt struck the ground and illuminated the sigils he’d placed, shattering each stone with precise accuracy. It was unsettling, leaving a low horror in his stomach, as he turned forward and started to run. Gavin began running with him, his terror shown in the burnt footsteps he left on the ground as he moved.

The town came into view just in time. The wind was tearing at his cloak, and at Gavin’s shawl and scarf, and Jeremy knew if he looked back this time he’d see a hurricane ripping at the dirt and fields.

Jeremy passed through the barrier and shuddered as he felt the magic wash over him. He turned back to Gavin with a smile‒ but his heart stopped when he noticed Gavin was still outside the town limits.

“ _Hurry!_ ” he called, holding out his hand, but Gavin didn’t move.

The god was watching the storm with a desperate look in his eye, like he was thinking something dangerous, and Jeremy cursed. He jumped out again and grabbed Gavin’s arm, startling him, and pulled him through‒ but not before Gavin let go of his scarf, and they both watched as the golden fabric disappeared into the swirling winds, the glint of color in the darkness dancing away into the whirlwind before it went up, up, and completely vanished.

 

Michael had come as soon as possible‒ he’d known about the breach immediately, seeing as how most of the magic that had created the field was his own. Jeremy was a magical presence he’d known, of course, but Gavin...

“Who _is_ he?” Michael hissed as he ushered the two of them into his own home. Gavin was shaken, but not unwavering‒ he flitted happily about the room like a bird, cooing gently over the plants and books that Michael had stored on his shelves. “His magic is fucking ridiculous, Jeremy, something’s _wrong_ with him.”

“Nothing’s wrong with him,” Jeremy murmured back, watching as Lindsay came out and led Gavin away to the guest room. She nodded to Jeremy and he smiled back. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Fuckin’ try me,” Michael scoffed. “I can feel his sun magic, Jeremy, but it’s not like the other acolytes in town. He’s _strong_ , dude. It’s kinda terrifying.”

Jeremy sighs and slumps down onto Michael’s couch, thankfully accepting the cup of herbal tea Michael’s made. “I don’t know, Michael. He’s... different. In a good way.”

“Tell me,” the wanderer said, sitting next to him on the couch.

So Jeremy did.

By the end of the story, his mug was empty and Michael’s fists were clenched into his pants, his breaths heavy. The masks on Michael’s walls seemed to judge Jeremy from every angle‒ the first one Michael had made, flat and brown with a simple smile, was prominent above the fireplace, making Jeremy shudder slightly.

“There’s a temple,” Michael murmured, making Jeremy’s glance flit back to him. “In town, for him, specifically.”

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah, I know of it.”

Michael leveled him with a heavy gaze. “Visit it‒ bring him with you. There’s no hiding who he is from them, but they might be able to help you figure out what’s happened.”

Jeremy gave another slow nod, his hands shaking as he placed the mug down and stood to find Gavin. Michael stood with him and put a hand on Jeremy’s shoulder.

Gavin was in the backyard, laughing as a few stray cats curled up around him and on his lap, each one purring loudly. When Jeremy and Michael approached, he turned to them with a wide smile, glowing brightly with sparks like fireflies dancing around him. Jeremy smiled back at him and held out a hand.

Gavin gently lifted the cat off his lap and gave it a final, sad pet, before taking Jeremy’s hand and hauling himself up. “Where are we off to, then?”

“There’s a shrine in the city,” he admitted, and watched as Gavin blinked. “The acolytes there might know what happened to you, why you’re stuck down here, how you got here.”

Gavin grinned brightly. “That’d be _lush_.”

Michael made a confused noise in the back of his throat but said nothing as he led the both of them through his house to the front door. Gavin stepped out and began walking towards the temple, like he instinctively knew where it was, but Jeremy was held back by Michael’s hand tight around his wrist.

“I’d advise covering him up with your cloak more often,” he said quietly, and they both watched as Gavin walked off, shining in the darkness. “A light like that draws unwanted attention.”

 

The temple of the Sun, in this town, was a one story building, built from marble that has cracked over time, been fixed with molten gold. Jeremy knew that in sunlight, it was magnificent to behold, especially on the inside, where the ceiling was made of glass and there were no torches‒ instead, there were panels of specially made glass infused with magic that absorbed the sunlight and reflected it at night to make the temple glow.

Gavin stared in a curious awe as the soft light made the building look like something ethereal, out of the world and out of place in a town like this. An acolyte was tending gently to the flowers outside, dropping what looked like chunks of coal and driftwood into the soil next to them. Jeremy recognized the endoflame flowers as the wood and coal began to dissolve and burn, the petals starting to glow and refresh themselves as they consumed the fuel. Light blue mana began to float from each plant, and Jeremy’s wand twitched in his pocket, making towards it. The acolyte stood and pulled their white cloak closer to them, humming softly as they made to return inside the temple.

“Excuse me,” Jeremy said quietly. The acolyte startled but laughed and began to turn. “We could... use some help.”

“Of course,” she said, and finally faced them. She smiled kindly at Jeremy. “What can I...”

Gavin had stepped up next to Jeremy now, still awed by the temple’s light, and the acolyte had gone wide eyed, watching him. She tugged her hood down and bowed her head in reverence, silently mouthing quiet hymns and blessings‒ Gavin noticed, finally, and watched with a smile before reaching out and taking her hands.

“You don’t have to,” he whispered, and she nodded slowly.

“We need to figure out how he got down here,” Jeremy said quietly, and she nodded.

“Of course. Come inside, please‒ we’ll do what we can, maybe a trace...”

The acolyte trailed off, already busying herself with ideas on how to help. Gavin laughed as she disappeared up the steps, nodding to Jeremy as he followed.

Jeremy paused a moment to fish out his wand and a small bottle, pulling a small amount of excess mana from the endoflames before corking the bottle and tucking his things away. He climbed the stairs and entered the temple.

 

The acolyte’s name was Dia, and she’d lain her pearlescent cloak to the side as Jeremy had entered. “It’s not painful,” she promised, and Gavin nodded slowly, watching her.

She held her hands out, palms up, and he laid his own on top of them. There was silence for a while as Dia brushed her thumbs over the back of his hands, slowly and deliberately‒ it was close, a movement lovers would do to soothe each other, or a mother to her child. It was soothing and gentle. Gavin shuddered slightly, his eyes finally closing, and sighed and Jeremy watched in awe as his breath revealed a magic that glowed in the dim light.

Dia began to hum again, a hymn Jeremy recognized from days he’d spent outside some of the sun temples in his own hometown. The magic between the two of them steadily grew brighter, tightly swirling in on itself into a tiny orb, smaller and smaller until it hung there like a star that was just too close.

Dia pulled away from Gavin and took the cupped the light gently, not quite touching it, before turning towards the back. Jeremy noted a few dayblooms in planters, lining the back wall, as well as a couple of younger, freshly blooming nightshades. The dayblooms weren’t as bright as Jeremy knew them to be but the nightshades looked healthy and gorgeous, flourishing in the darkness. In the middle of them all was a white petaled flower, with a yellow and black seeded center, pulsing with soft energy.

“A fallen kanade,” Jeremy whispered, and Dia gave him a soft smile before gently placing the light in the middle of the flower.

There was a beat as the light disappeared, and then a flash, and Dia choked on a gasp, stumbling slightly. Gavin came forward and caught her as she fell back. Jeremy noticed that her eyes were a pure white and there was an uncomfortable, pained twist in her expression. Before he had time to do anything, she blinked, her eyes back to normal, and they both helped her into a standing position.

“It’s a binding curse,” she said softly, and Gavin blinked in confusion as Jeremy sucked in through his teeth. “Someone‒ I’m guessing a _group_ of someones‒ has done a ritual and literally torn you from the heavens, binding you to the earth and soil. They’ve ripped you from the sky.”

“Why would someone...” Gavin whispered to himself, incredibly quiet. Jeremy noticed the upset in his voice and placed a hand on his arm in comfort.

“How do we get him back?” Jeremy asked Dia. She sighed as she slung the cloak back on, clasping it in the front.

“I, personally, can’t tell you, and neither can any of the others in this town.” Her hood came back up and now Jeremy noted that her eyes were still glowing dimly. “But if you go to the main sun temple in the country, they can help.”

Gavin let out a long, relieved sigh, and Jeremy smiled and nodded in thanks. Something in Dia’s stature, though, made him think there was more to tell.

“Go tell Michael,” he said to Gavin, and the god nodded happily, thanking Dia with a quick hug and kiss to the side of her head before disappearing out the door. Jeremy turned to her then, and watched as her smile faded.

“There’s a lot of dark magic in the area, at the moment,” she said quietly. “I’m sure you’re aware, of course, because they were so sure they were doing this _for_ the Night.”

“The blood mages,” Jeremy mumbled, angry suddenly at the others that have so terribly ruined the reputation‒ blood magic may not be the cleanest type, but it’s abilities are beyond compare to many other magics, enough to rival that of gods, even.

“So many of them believe the Dark God wanted what his title implies. That he wants to take everything from us, to restart this world and bathe us in shadow. So they take the sun from him, and believe his storms and the pain from the void is his celebration at winning.”

“It’s not,” Jeremy said. “It’s his _anger_. His desperation. He needs Gavin back.”

Dia nodded. “You already understand. That’s good. You need to understand this one other thing, though.”

Jeremy opened his mouth to ask what, but she took him by the hands and grasped them _tight_. “They have tied him to the soil, and the dirt, and the rock,” she hissed. “They have ensnared him with vines and grass and thorns, are pulling him closer and closer to where war has spoiled the earth and to where blood has spilled on the ground. They are making him _human_ , Jeremy, human and beyond. But they don’t pull his godliness from him, they pull his essence, his energy, his magic. They weren’t aiming for the god, they were aiming for the _light_ , and he is light, Jeremy. Every part of his being and soul is light. They are draining him dry, pulling every inch of him from the world and universe.”

“What are you saying?” Jeremy whispered, a sinking feeling in his stomach.

“He will change. He will become vulnerable, and cold, and _human_. And then he’ll get worse. Sick. Weak. Slow. If you don’t get him back to where he belongs, and soon...”

She looked towards the door, tears brimming in her eyes, and Jeremy looked over towards it too. Outside he could hear Gavin laughing with Michael over something, could almost see the light in his eyes. And then he imagined it fading, the glow in Gavin’s hair and skin dimming, his warmth dwindling into a frigid chill. His breath caught.

“He will die, Jeremy. And then we all will.”


	2. the sunset

They left in what Jeremy assumed was early morning. Michael and Lindsay packed them food and water, and some other alcoholic drinks and potions (“Warms your bones,” Michael laughed, and Jeremy nodded and smiled and swallowed back the fear that it might be all that would keep Gavin warm soon).

Dia stepped up to them before they left. In her palms she cradled something gently, as carefully as a mother would her baby. She carefully reached up and Jeremy watched as she tucked the fallen kanade behind Gavin’s ear and nodded to him.

“Take these nightshade seeds,” she told Jeremy as Gavin turned to say goodbye to the others, placing a small velvet bag in his hand. “When you rest‒ _if_ you rest,” she warned in a whisper, “use these to grant yourself mana. It’ll fuel the kanade and help him keep even small amounts of strength. Do it while he’s sleeping, though, because it could drain him otherwise.”

“He doesn’t sleep, though,” Jeremy whispered.

“He will,” Dia mumbled, smiling sadly when Gavin turned to them.

“Thank you,” Gavin told her with a tight hug. She nodded, bowing her head.

Gavin turned to Jeremy with a hopeful grin, and Jeremy gave him two thumbs up.

“Off we go then,” Gavin chirped.

Both of them stopped just in front of the barrier, watching it shift and change every moment, energy running in it like lightning. Just beyond were spatterings of trees in the plains that lead into a thick forest just on the horizon. Thunder rumbled above the area and Gavin looped his arm in Jeremy’s.

“Good luck,” Dia whispered, and the two stepped through and onwards.

 

The darkness descended on them like a wave in an ocean the second they passed the town limits.

Jeremy had to stop to breathe as it crashed into his lungs, shadows stinging and prodding at his skin for a few agonising seconds before Gavin’s grasp on his arm tightened and the world seemed to flare with light and everything subsided.

Gavin smiled at Jeremy as he blinked the lingering glare from his sight and then they began to walk. Gavin gasped suddenly, and when Jeremy looked over, he was gently touching his forehead and inspecting his finger, confused. Jeremy felt it too, then‒ a drop of water on top of his head, and another, and another. Holding out his hand revealed more, and Gavin laughed, holding his hands out too and marvelling at it.

“You’ve never felt rain before, have you?” Jeremy said, watching Gavin’s delight. The god shook his head, staring in wonder at the water that was now soaking into his hair as well. Jeremy laughed at how childlike he looked, in complete awe at the natural things around him. As they continued onwards in the rain, Jeremy’s heart sank as he noticed Gavin shiver and sneeze, shaking every so often despite the warmth he gave off. Jeremy made him stop as he took his cloak off, wrapping it around Gavin’s shoulders with care. For once, Gavin didn’t protest, only smiling at Jeremy as they continued on.

 

Gavin had been disappointed when the treetops obscured the stars. His light wasn’t as bright as when Jeremy had first met him, but it was still unnatural how his soft light cast onto the trees. There wasn’t any comfort in it, not like before. Not with how the rain drummed loudly against the canopy above them, water barely seeping through, not with how the wind was making a whistling call in the trees, a cry going unanswered. With every howl the wind made, though, Gavin quietly gasped to himself, holding his breath until the noise passed.

“What’s wrong?” Jeremy asked him eventually, and Gavin turned to him tearfully.

“Can’t you hear it?” the god whispered. “He’s calling my name.”

Jeremy quieted down a bit to listen more closely. When the wind blew through again he strained to hear it‒ Gavin grasped his hand suddenly and there was a small jolt that went through him. “ _Listen_ ,” Gavin whispered, his grip becoming tighter, and then Jeremy could hear it.

In the thunder that cracked above them, with a deep, rumbling voice that settled deep into Jeremy’s chest, he listened as the Darkness cried out, _Gavin, please, where are you?_

He saw, in the corner of his eye, Gavin tilt his head towards the sky and mouth _I’m here_.

Jeremy squeezed his hand gently back and Gavin remembered himself, letting go and pulling away. He pulled the cloak tighter around himself and sighed slow.

“We’ll get you back,” Jeremy reassured him. “So tell me about it.”

“About what?”

“About up there,” Jeremy said, and watched as Gavin relaxed with a smile. “Actually just tell me... everything. About you, about him, about... becoming a god.”

“Where we live... it’s called the Etherium,” Gavin said after a few moments of silence. “It’s hidden to mortals, of course, but it’s a whole different world, completely separated from this plane of existence. It started as a single tree on a single island. Ryan was made first, created from darkness itself, from the fabric of void. He cut down the tree and expanded the island from the wood. He was given an apple and a sapling. From the apple he took the seeds and placed them in the darkness above‒ they were still glistening from water, and they stood out against the void. The sapling he planted provided him with more wood, and more apples, and more seeds. When it got cold enough, the apple seeds‒ now stars‒ were awake, and aware. One took her own form, and approached him and whispered to him the secret of fire before vanishing across the sky again.”

“There’s another one of you?” Jeremy quietly asked, glancing towards the treetops, as if to catch a glimpse of the stars with this new knowledge in mind.

“Oh, yes,” Gavin said, just as quiet. “The first seed Ryan gave to the sky‒ the first star Ryan planted. She became her own soul and thought, master of dreams and eternity, the true creator of starlight. She doesn’t exist in mortal eyes, and she planned it that way. Her true name was lost to the both of us long ago, but we both simply call her Seamstress.”

“Why that?”

“I don’t know,” Gavin replied. “But in a way, she helped my creation.”

“She taught Ryan to create fire, right?”

“And in doing so, I was made,” Gavin smiled brightly. “Ryan left the cinders burning as he rested, and the breath of an elder being rekindled the fire and I was born from the flames.”

“So the two of you worked together to expand the island?”

“To finish creating Etherium, yes. From a single tree to an endless palace. It still expands,” Gavin sighed. “Endlessly and onwards.”

There was a comfortable silence for a while before Gavin started to fiddle with a ring on his finger. “I thought... he hated me at first.”

Jeremy blinked towards him. Gavin paused at the edge of the road and picked up a long, broken branch, charred slightly at one end, split from one of the trees above them. He rubbed the soot from his fingers and used it as a walking stick, continuing forward on the path without looking at Jeremy.

“I’m sure he did, actually,” he murmured. “Ryan was alone, for so long, and _thriving_ alone too, and then I just... was there. Completely uninvited. He wouldn’t speak to me, at first. Moved at night when I would sleep‒ back then, we were dangerously close to mortals ourselves, and we required sustenance and rest. He would work on his nuclear energy when I slept and would rest when I was awake, just to avoid me. Eventually, the cycle created itself.”

“Day and night.”

“Yeah, exactly. The elder being that created me took notice‒ my dad, I guess. So he came over and sort of... yelled at Ryan for avoiding me. He told us we had to work together to make the Etherium our home and in doing so, we could prove to him that we could help watch over a completely different world. So we did! It was... awkward, at first, but...”

“It all worked out,” Jeremy laughed. “Look at you two now!”

“Yeah,” Gavin sighed, leaning against the stick. “Look at us now, indeed.”

He coughed, suddenly, low and raspy‒ the kind of cough that Jeremy could hear rattled his chest and tore at his throat. He stumbled and was caught by Jeremy, who he rested against as he caught his breath. “Wow,” he said breathlessly. “Sorry, I... I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Hey,” Jeremy replied, a sinking feeling in his chest. “Don’t worry about it, alright?”

Gavin smiled at him kindly, small and sweet, and it put a new heaviness and guilt in Jeremy’s heart. “Thanks, Jeremy.”

 

At the sound of hisses, Jeremy froze.

He tugged at Gavin’s arm to get him to stop. The god looked at him quizzically and opened his mouth, but Jeremy made a motion with his hand to shush him. Gavin closed his mouth and listened before smiling brightly.

The hissing grew louder and Jeremy went to take his knife‒ but shit, that wouldn’t work, would it, he needed to get away, quietly‒

Gavin, though.

“We need to go,” Jeremy whispered, but Gavin shook his head. Jeremy stared at him. “What are you, nuts? Do you _know_ what’s coming, we need to _go_!”

“Did you forget, Jeremy?” Gavin laughed. “Only _some_ of the monsters listen to Ryan. The rest...”

He trailed off as the creatures came into view, and Jeremy stiffened at the sight of them.

Creepers were truly horrifying things.

They were made to look like entanglements of leaves and vines, a camouflaged monstrosity, quieter than anything, like ghosts. Their eyes and mouths were _rips_ in their skin, empty and void of anything, leaking smoke from the edges like liquid overflowing from a cup.

And if anyone ever got too close, they were ripped to shreds in the inevitable explosion‒ which is why Jeremy was desperately grabbing at Gavin’s arm, hoping to get him to _stop moving closer to the damn thing_.

Gavin, of course, didn’t listen, instead outstretching his palm towards the creature. “Look at you,” he cooed. “Oh, you’re just a little one, aren’t you, yes! Lovely little‒ oh, is this your mum?”

Another creeper, a bit larger than the first, was emerging from the woods towards the path, making low hissing noises and chitters towards the smaller one. When it noticed Gavin, it started to flash, and Jeremy made a keening noise in the back of his throat, hoping to pull Gavin away quick enough, but‒

Gavin was chittering _back_.

A low rumbling purr, a roll of his tongue, resulting in soft clicking noises, chitters and coos and little noises that the creepers responded to in kind. The smaller one chirped excitedly and scuttled closer, close enough for Gavin to pet, and then closer still, under it was nuzzling up against him. Jeremy watched in morbid horror and fascination as more creepers curiously poked through the trees and began to hiss and chitter in what was apparently happiness. Each of them came closer to curl up to him.

“What the _fuck_ ,” Jeremy whispered. The creepers all turned to him and hissed, and he nearly shit himself right there, but Gavin was quick to hush and chitter at them. Apparently something he’d said calmed them and one of the younger ones even came close to Jeremy, clicking curiously before turning and going back to Gavin.

“You did forget, didn’t you?” Gavin laughed, and sat on the ground. “Jeremy, creepers are made from plants, they’re protectors of their forests. But in the beginning they were just... soft. So I gave them little bursts of energy to keep themselves and their kind safe from anyone who could come to harm them.”

“Oh,” Jeremy said. Gavin laughed and cooed at one of the babies. “So you’re like their mom?”

Gavin blinked as a creeper crawled into his lap and nuzzled at him. “Yeah, I guess. They tend to go to me for warmth.”

One of the creepers brought Gavin a pelt, well kept and clean, and a few others helped to tug it around his shoulders. He smiled and pressed a kiss to their heads in quiet thanks, before offering his hand up to Jeremy. He took it and helped him stand, keeping him steady as the creepers gave a few gentle hisses and disappeared back into the trees.

“They said they’ll protect us,” Gavin said, pulling the pelt closer to himself. “And that they’ll help when... things get worse?”

Jeremy swallowed, knowing exactly what that meant. “Yeah? That’s. Good, I think.”

Gavin laughed, like wind through chimes, high and delighted as he poked fun at Jeremy for his reaction, but Jeremy’s heart and mind were in different places as they continued on down the path.

 

On one night, while he was planting the nightshades and watching as creepers scuttled around their campsite, he caught Gavin watching him curiously. After finishing setting up, he moved to start a fire, and Gavin came close as it started, tugging Jeremy’s cloak tighter around himself.

“Why are you out here, Jeremy?” Gavin asked with a sniffle. A creeper shuffled close and snugged up against him with gentle chitters, presumably sensing he was getting worse. Jeremy sighed, poking slightly at the drying monster jerky on the rack he’d set up‒ by morning, it’d be edible. Nothing would come for it, of course, seeing as how the both of them were protected. He turned and sat next to Gavin, who shuffled closer with a smile.

“Why am I out here,” Jeremy repeated to himself, digging his heels into the dirt under him. Gavin smiled at him, petting the creeper that chirped quietly at his side. The fire crackled loudly into the silent night. “I guess I’m... running.”

“Running?” Gavin asked. “What from? The storms?”

“Well, no,” Jeremy said. “Those came after. But, uh... I guess I’m running from my past, if that makes sense?”

“Not really,” Gavin told him, coughing. “Your past isn’t something tangible. Time isn’t tangible.”

“In some cases it is.” He sighed and leant forward to poke at the embers with a stick. “Like _people_ from your past are entirely tangible. Maybe you hurt them, maybe they hurt you. Maybe, for a while, you think you’re doing the right thing. People get hurt, but it’s the _right_ thing, they tell you, and you believe it! You do. It seems _right_.”

“I once did something like that,” Gavin whispered. “I know what that’s like.”

“Yeah,” Jeremy said. “But someone... died. They weren’t supposed to. We were close, and I was upset, and I mourned that night and the next morning‒” He huffed and shook his head. “The next morning, they were _back_. And it was wrong, Gavin, it was so _wrong_. I found out how it happened and I couldn’t stay. I left. I became something better, something nicer, a trader, a wanderer.”

“That’s good,” Gavin said. At some point his head had dropped onto Jeremy’s shoulder and now he could feel his every breath and shiver, the unnatural cold of his cheek. Jeremy wrapped his arm around the godling and pulled him close, tucking him into his chest.

“That’s good,” Gavin whispered again, shuddering against him. Jeremy noticed how he was slowly nodding off, his head nodding and jerking as he tried to wake himself. Jeremy hushed him and tugged him down towards the ground, laying him gently on the bedroll, as close to the fire as he could get him, and letting the creepers scuttle up and curl close. Before he pulled away, Gavin caught his wrist, placing a small necklace in his hand and wrapping Jeremy’s fingers around it loosely. “For luck,” Gavin mumbled, slipping away into sleep with a soft sigh.

Jeremy huffed, opening his hand to inspect the trinket. The small pendant was made of a bright jewel, filled with some type of liquid that glowed and shifted with every movement, shaped into a popular depiction of the sun. Across the thin chain on either side were two other bright jewels, each in the form of a four pointed star. With a smile, he tugged it over his head and under his shirt, letting it rest against against his skin. It burned for a second before cooling into a comfortable warmth, like the feeling of a cup of warm coffee on a snowy day. He sighed, and pulled his jacket close to him as he looked around, sitting just at Gavin’s feet, still shaking against the cold and the shivers up his own spine.

A creeper came up to him on it’s own and curled into his lap with a quiet purr and he gently pet it as he started his watch for the night, humming the song Gavin used to hum for him.

 

They came for them when they were in the deepest and darkest parts of the forest, with the trees surrounding them acting more like walls, shielding the rest of the world away from them.

Or perhaps, Jeremy thought, shielding them from the rest of the world.

Gavin was much weaker, now. His glow had completely vanished, and Jeremy was glad for the extra oils that Michael had made him pack so that the lantern once again had a use. His coughing had gotten worse, as well, thick and raspy like he was choking on something that wasn’t there. Every time he slept, Jeremy planted the nightshade seeds‒ the flowers would produce their mana, and Jeremy would watch as the kanade Gavin had faithfully kept in his hair collected the magic. It would surround him, like a shield, a blanket, but it was never enough.

It was during another one of Gavin’s fits that Jeremy heard it, just beyond the path’s edge in the trees. He passed a glass bottle of mana infused water to him, but his attention was more on the treeline‒ more precisely, the shadows moving around it.

The wind picked up around them, and the air crackled with a thick energy that Jeremy recognized well. “Shit,” he hissed. “Gavin, shit‒ we should move, quickly‒”

“I don’t think so, little Dooley.”

Something blossomed deep in Jeremy’s chest and he struggled under the weight of raw energy the newcomers were forcing on him. Next to him, Gavin choked, and coughed. The kanade wilted quickly in his hair and he collapsed to the ground, grasping at his chest desperately with wide eyes. The strangers stepped out from the shadows.

Jeremy knew them, of course‒ there was a school specially made for this kind of magic, and it was hard not to know everyone that ever went.

Keila and Mallory were draped in the apprentice robes, still, but Brad and Cameron were in their graduation colors, a deep red cloak in replacement of the brown, lined with thick black leather. On their belts were their sacrificial knives, each one personalized with runes of their names‒ Jeremy’s own knife lit up at the presence of the other mages, while he himself was feeling the opposite.

Cameron crouched down beside Gavin with a smile. “So you’re the one who found him, hm?” he asked, glancing up at Jeremy, who was itching to grab his knife but couldn’t move. “Shouldn’t be surprised, I guess. You always were a bit too soft hearted for a blood mage.”

Gavin turned his gaze weakly towards Jeremy, obviously confused, and Jeremy swallowed thickly. Cameron noticed, and the others did too, laughing amongst each other. “Aw, you didn’t tell him? You didn’t tell the _sun_ that you were one of us?”

“I’m _not_ ,” he managed to spit. “Not anymore.”

Mallory snickered. “You kept the dagger, though. Still _practice_? Just a bit? Still drain souls dry of their life points, for nothing at all?”

“No!” Jeremy hissed, but Brad had moved over to grasp at Gavin’s chin.

“Do you even understand why we pulled you down?” he said, nails digging into Gavin’s skin. His breath hitched, but he wasn’t strong enough to fight back, only barely being able to keep himself up on his arms. “We would do _anything_ for our god‒ sacrifice ourselves, even, if it meant he would be pleased. He is our savior from this wretched existence and when he consumes the Earth in nothingness, we will ascend in knowledge.”

“And you were the only thing standing in his way,” Keila said, toying with her own knife on his fingertips. “It was so _simple_ to pull the weaker god from the sky, at the cost of what? A few lives?”

“The rest of the world, you fucking freaks!” Jeremy hissed. “This isn’t what he asked for or _wanted_ ‒”

“And you’re so sure,” Cameron mocked, standing above Gavin and pulling his dagger out, pressing it to the back of Gavin’s neck. The godling shuddered, his breaths quickening in panic. “How would you _know_ , Dooley? Do you talk to him? Does the Dark God whisper in _your_ traitor ass ear, as opposed to the rest of us, with everything we’ve done, everything we _will do_ in his name?”

Mallory stepped closer and suddenly drove their blade into Jeremy’s arm. He grunted at the sting and felt warmth trickle down his arm‒ Mallory caught it in a small, spherical jar, letting it fill completely. “This is all we needed!”

The knife at Gavin’s neck drove deeper down and this time it was Jeremy’s breath that hitched. “No‒ no, you can’t‒”

“Aw,” Keila said. “Did you get attached, Dooley? Cute.”

She sneered at him before pulling her own blood orb from her bag, stepping up. Brad dropped his hand from Gavin’s chin, the imprints of his nails still on the skin, and cut his own palms before opening his tome. Cameron pulled Gavin up and back so that the godling was sitting back on his ankles, bound by the magic in the same way Jeremy was. There were tears forming in his eyes as Cameron placed the blade of his dagger to Gavin’s throat. His gaze flicked over to Jeremy, who struggled as hard as he could. “We will _not_ die here,” Jeremy promised. “I swear to you, Gav, we won’t, not here‒ I’ll get you home‒”

“God of Darkness and Void!” Brad called loudly, drowning him out. “We call to you to witness this final act of your followers and loyal ones, the blood mages of this world. On the land of the triad of sacred temples‒”

Jeremy jolted in realization. They were _that close_ ‒ close enough to be on the actual land of the temples, close enough that two steps more on the path and they’d be in the protection of the temples’ magic as well. Mallory noticed his stillness and grinned, waving a hand. There was a flash as the acolyte’s magic disappeared for just a second and Jeremy _saw them_ ‒ the brilliance of the Sun temple, flaring just in front of him, the other two presumably on it’s sides. Gavin saw too, he knew, and Jeremy hiccuped.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, but Gavin only smiled.

“It’s okay, Jeremy,” he murmured back weakly. “You did what you could, it’s okay.”

The pendant pulsed against his chest and Jeremy felt tears slipping down his face. There was a heavy silence in the air as Brad paused to take a breath.

“Dear Lord,” Brad said, and nodded once to Cameron before grinning darkly towards Jeremy. “This is in your name.”

To his credit, Gavin didn’t scream.

It was almost anticlimactic, in a way, poetically beautiful in how he simply gasped as the silver broke cleanly across his skin. Maybe he was louder‒ everything went into white noise, very quickly after blood started pouring down Gavin’s pale throat. Jeremy was sure he was screaming, his throat felt raw, but he couldn’t _hear_ anything.

Gavin’s blood was red, Jeremy noted dumbly. He wasn’t sure why, but he’d thought it would be golden.

Cameron pulled away. A drop of red hit the ground.

The earth _roared_. Thunder rumbled and Jeremy felt it deep in his chest. The magic dropped and he rushed to catch Gavin’s body before it fell forwards. The blood mages looked towards the sky with awe, grinning brightly. “ _He’s coming,_ ” Keila laughed.

The breath was suddenly ripped from his lungs and Jeremy felt very, very tired. He pulled Gavin protectively towards his chest, curling forward as he struggled to stay awake.

The other four stood above them. Jeremy noticed they were grasping at their throats, desperate for breath. Lightning struck, dangerously close, leaving marks across the ground, and in the sudden rain, as Jeremy blinked the remains of the sudden flashes of light from his eyes, a figure appeared.

Another flash of lightning left Jeremy blinded again, and when he managed to look again, Keila had a dark knife through her own throat. The other three were on their hands and knees, shaking, a dark force keeping them to the ground. Jeremy gasped as the figure turned to him, staring down on him‒ it reached out towards him, and Jeremy tightened against Gavin on instinct.

The hand pulled away for a second. Jeremy watched as the stranger tilted their head curiously. There was a pause, like the world had stopped completely. The stranger knelt down and brushed his thumb against Jeremy’s forehead, and Jeremy felt sleep begin to consume him.

The last thing he remembered were soft blue eyes and the feeling of Gavin slipping from his hold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't know what pacing is and at this point i'm too afraid to ask  
> also hey! dont worry! it's all good probably  
> part three probably Not in a week im a bitch


	3. the twilight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> slams hands together WELCOME TO THE FILLER CHAPTER i'll do my best on chapter 4

Jeremy drifted.

Every time he woke up, there was a new conversation at his side. He only caught snippets‒ worried voices, and heavy words. There was a terrible feeling, deep in his stomach that he couldn’t place.

The first time he managed to open his eyes, there was a hooded acolyte next to him. They began gently wiping at his forehead, with a warm wet cloth. They hushed him when he tried to speak.

“You’ve been through a lot,” they said. “The power of an angry god is not something many have survived. But it is no wonder that _you_ did.”

Jeremy made a questioning noise in the back of his throat and the acolyte hushed him again. Something about them seemed _off_ , but they gave him another hushing noise and let a few drops of potion hit his lips. He licked at it on instinct and felt it taking hold quickly enough. He wasn’t awake for much longer.

When he woke again, the acolyte was still there, but someone else was at their side.

The man wore a long, heavy cloak that was darker than any fabric Jeremy had ever seen‒ the ends just barely brushed against the floor, and the long he stared, the more it blurred into nothingness. Nestled on soft brown hair was an obsidian crown, cracked and sharp, but the man’s skin was pale against it, and his eyes were a soft blue.

Jeremy sucked in a quick gasp at the realization hit him.

The Dark God chuckled low as Jeremy began to stammer and push himself into a sitting position on the bed. The acolyte smiled and handed Jeremy a glass of water, helping him drink when his hands were shaking too hard to keep a hold of it.

“What... what happened?” he asked. Something else came to mind. “ _Gavin_ ‒ where’s Gavin?”

Thunder rumbled. The god lowered his head and Jeremy choked on his breath. He almost felt his heart stop.

“ _No_ ,” he managed.

The acolyte smiled and placed their hand on his gently. “He’s not all gone,” they said in quiet reassurance. “As long as light remains, he will too.”

“But‒ he _died_ ‒ he was in my arms, he...”

“The sun doesn’t die so simply,” the acolyte murmured. They gestured simply towards the lantern on the side table. “The fire burns, and produces protection against the darkness. It leaves burns and blisters the skin. It _exists_ , and that is our reassurance.”

“The secret of light is Gavin’s alone,” Ryan said, and Jeremy jolted at the suddenness of his voice. “I’ve forgotten how it begins, and I can’t be sure, but I do believe the Seamstress has as well. Gavin is the only one who can keep it alight. He’s the only one with that magic, that ability.”

Jeremy blinked slowly. “He’s... alive then.”

“Lost, but alive.” The acolyte stood from their seat. “You two need to discuss things. I’m going to find you some clothing‒ perhaps a warm bath, as well, and some food?”

Jeremy nodded in thanks and they left through a heavy wooden door that slammed shut behind them. He turned his eyes down towards the bedspread, smoothing it out and swallowing thickly around the lump in his throat. There was heavy silence before Ryan sighed deeply.

“Do you even _know_ how angry I was when he disappeared.”

It wasn’t a question. Jeremy shrunk in on himself, nodding and pulling the covers closer. Ryan took another deep breath.

“It was... so quick. Terrifyingly so. There are no boundaries, in Etherium, just the edge of our land that we continuously build on and on, and beneath it, the void. I thought, maybe, being him, he’d just slipped off again‒ he sort of, shouted, you know, called for attention, like he usually does. It never hurts for long when we fall, and we come back fine, if missing a few things we were holding on to.”

He gave a huff of laughter, but Jeremy noticed how he shook ever so slightly.

“But he didn’t _stop_. He didn’t stop calling, and when I looked, he was‒ in so much pain, it was‒ unnatural for him to feel that much. And I reached for him, to hold him, to calm him, to find out anything, and our fingertips barely touched before he was just...”

Ryan finally sat down at the edge of the bed, head tilted upwards. Jeremy swallowed as he was hit with a flash of Gavin in the same position.

“I knew he was here, but I couldn’t _find_ him. I couldn’t reach to him, call to him, go to him. Nothing. Just traces of his light, his magic. And when I discovered what was keeping him from me, what had pulled him away‒ the curse, the ritual‒ I knew where to _start_.”

“The lightning,” Jeremy mumbled. “The storms. You were targeting anyone who used blood magic.”

“Yours wasn’t strong,” Ryan said. “But I could never get a hold on you, either. There were a few others‒ repented mages, who became true acolytes‒ but they were easy to locate, not like _you_. You were protected. Hidden behind a veil.”

“Gavin...”

Ryan nodded. “I thought maybe it was against his will. He just _does_ things, you know, it’s not his choice who he protects with his magic. And when I got _this_.”

He pulled something out from under his cape and Jeremy gasped. Gavin’s scarf was still shining gold, but tattered, edges frayed and wind-torn. Ryan had a tight grip on it and he ran it through his hands like it was a lifeline. “I gave it to him, when we had just agreed to our partnership. He _loved_ this scarf, he‒ he promised he’d never lose it. For the wind to carry it back to me...”

He took a deep breath and turned back to Jeremy, a storm brewing in his eyes. “I’d like to apologize, but also thank you. You protected him, and helped when he was weak‒”

“I failed him, though,” Jeremy interrupted desperately. “I didn’t get him here, I couldn’t keep him _alive_ long enough‒”

“You did what you _could_ ,” Ryan said. “And that is the most anyone could have asked of you.”

The room fell quiet. Rain made patterns of sound on the marble roof of the temple.

The acolyte returned with a platter of meats and breads, setting it on the bedside table, along with a bowl of apples. They held a glass of golden liquid that shifted with pinks and blues the longer Jeremy looked at it. Jeremy took the bread first, revelling in the warmth in his hands, and nodding in thanks before digging in.

“Will you come with me?” Ryan asked him quietly. “To find him again.”

Jeremy swallowed before answering. “I don’t understand why you need _me._ ”

“Because‒”

“The Sun has given you a piece of himself,” the acolyte said. Jeremy turned towards them, and they nodded towards his chest with a smile. Jeremy suddenly instinctively reached for the pendant. “It holds the very last of his magic. The sun is _literally_ in your hands. In turn, you must return him to himself.”

The pendant flared to life at their words, sending a burning warmth throughout him. It didn’t hurt, but it was a sudden reminder of what he’d been given. Ryan nodded when he sent him a glance.

“He chose you,” Ryan told him simply. “Every human on this plane, and he chose _you._ ”

Jeremy played with the pendant, as if to memorize the shape of it with his fingertips. The acolyte smiled at him reassuringly.

“Okay,” he heard himself say. “Okay, yeah, I’ll go with you.”

“Good,” the acolyte said before Ryan could speak, and pushed the glass towards him. “ _Drink_. All of it, and quickly.”

Ryan’s eyes watched him carefully as he took the glass and pulled it towards him. “What is it?” the god asked just as Jeremy began to drink. It tasted like honey, tinged with citrus, and Jeremy finished it off quickly.

“Stardust,” the acolyte said with a grin, “mixed with the last sunset as he fell.”

Jeremy almost choked. Ryan stared at them like he was seeing a completely different person. “Where did you get that?”

“It’s my gift to him,” they laughed. “In the same sense as Gavin’s and, eventually, yours. It mimics the sun’s protection without using anything Gavin left you.”

They stood to leave, and Jeremy finally saw beneath their hood. They looked human enough, but they gave off an impression of something distinctly unnatural, inhuman in the way Gavin and Ryan were. “The gods bless you, Jeremy Dooley. Good luck.”

“Wait!” Ryan shouted in sudden realization, standing from the bed. He grasped for the arm but only managed to grab air. “ _Shit_.”

Jeremy looked down into the glass, swirling the few unreachable droplets around in the bottom. “Was, uh. Was that...”

“Yeah,” Ryan mumbled. “It was.”

“Oh,” Jeremy said, suddenly feeling very small.

 

They spent what Ryan said was a few days in the clearing, resting and preparing.

“There’s a place,” Ryan told him, pointing to a crude map under flickering candlelight. His finger was on a spot just near the bottom of the range, a valley of some sort, not too far from them. “We’d never gone before, but we knew of it‒ there are certain magics there that aren’t human, and I’ve been lead to believe that it’s a place of healing, in some ways. Even if he isn’t there, there’s a chance anyone who watches the place might be able to help.”

“Watches?” Jeremy asked.

“All magic has a sort of‒ guardian, in a word. Gavin is the guardian of light magic, of the day, and I’m the guardian of the opposite‒ dark magic, and night. But neither of us control other things‒ like healing, or charity, or animals, even. Our magic is overarching, but we can’t control it all.”

“So the other areas were assigned to other gods?”

Ryan laughed, and Jeremy was inexplicably warmed by it. “I don’t know if they’re fully _gods_ , but there are special beings that aren’t human‒ demigod, would be the term. Your friend Michael, for example,” he mentioned, and Jeremy jolted.

“Michael’s a demigod?”

“Michael doesn’t _know_ it yet, but his masks, and magic, are part of a bigger project. They’ll lead him to another realm and more botany.”

“Jesus,” Jeremy whispered. Ryan put a hand on his shoulder and he shivered as the cold seemed to seep through his jacket and shirt, and the god pulled away sheepishly.

“So the valley,” he finally said. “It’s a few days out, if we’re walking and taking rests‒ I’m sure a few of the acolytes could provide us food, and supplies for the trip...”

“About that,” Ryan said. “I can’t _technically_ come with you.”

Jeremy gave him a long look. “You asked me to come.”

“I mean I can’t come in this form,” he gestured to himself. “I’ll join you as such when I can, but...”

“You’ve exhausted it,” Jeremy realized.

“I’ve spent forever looking for Gavin like this,” Ryan murmured. “It’s tiring. I need time to heal it and restore it to what it used to be. Searching has... corrupted me further.”

“You’ll be with me, though?”

“Maybe not physically, not the whole time. By the second day I should be able to do a non-humanesque form...”

“Like a cat, or bird?”

“Yes, something like that.” Ryan stretched, and brushed a hand against Jeremy’s forehead lightly. Jeremy flushed from what felt like head to toe and pulled away, listening to Ryan’s laughter in his ear. “Take your rest, Jeremy. We’ll leave by star’s next call.”

“Star’s...” Jeremy murmured, but felt himself slipping from consciousness again, sleep taking him into it’s hold and Ryan taking him into _his_ hold as well.

 

“You’ll have to move quickly.”

Jeremy jolted, before turning to meet the person’s voice‒ the acolyte was there, again, but in their full glory as the third high god.

“Seamstress,” he whispered, and they laughed.

“Yes, Jeremy,” they said. “Three gods in the span of a week, you lucky boy.”

Jeremy could see how they seemed to settle between the two others, a good balance of them both in aesthetic‒ closer to Gavin, in a lot of ways, but mysterious and dark like Ryan had been. Their hair was the biggest mystery about them‒ swirling colors and starlight danced within the strands, resulting in millions of universes floating around them like nothing at all.

The world around Jeremy seemed unsure, shifting constantly along with the Seamstress’ hair, and Jeremy looked around, confused.

“This is a dream,” he realized, and the god laughed again.

“Yes, and I don’t have a _lot_ of time‒ nor do you. You _have_ to find the Sun within the week.”

“Why, what happens if I don’t?”

“He loses himself,” they said simply. “His memories and any remnant of his power.”

“And then the world goes dark,” Jeremy sighed.

“And we can’t recreate it,” they told him. “Ryan will help as _much_ as he can, but ultimately, it’s in your hands.”

“I’ll do my best,” Jeremy said. They smiled brightly.

“Your best is all we ask. It’s gotten you quite far.”

Jeremy nodded. “Thank you.”

“Good luck,” they said, and waved a hand.

 

Ryan was nowhere in sight the next morning, but Jeremy had figured as much. Instead, a stone rested heavily in his pocket, round and white, about the size of a large gold coin. It gave off a soft white light, and something was carved into it‒ a symbol, Ryan’s crest.

The acolytes gave him a bag full of _things_ , like the one he had before, but heavy with charms and extra bedrolls. The pack itself was full of hidden pockets, filled to the brim with seeds and little relics and‒

He shoved the bag back towards them. “ _No_ ,” he said sharply. “I can’t do that.”

“It’s what took him,” a voice whispered into his ear. “And it _will_ help you bring him back, I can promise you that.”

“I gave it up!” he insisted.

“You have to,” the Seamstress reminded him. “It’s easy to remember. Like swimming. You will need it.”

Jeremy sighed.

His sacrificial knife _sang_ to him in his inner coat pocket.

“Only on myself,” he said, and the stone thrummed with energy in his hand. “I refuse to harm another living thing, not like this. I refuse.”

The acolytes pushed the bag towards him again. Another pushed him a different sack, with jerky, and corn, and bottles of juices and water. “To the north,” she said quietly. “You’ll meet the guardians there.”

“There _are_ guardians, then?”

She nodded. “Ramsey, guardian of livestock, and Pattillo, guardian of draconic magics. They’re favored. They can help find him.”

“And Ryan?”

“The Moon God will join you when you leave the barrier,” she told him.

“Oh‒ wait...”

“His true visage has been lost to time, but we still remember,” she nodded. “They call him dark, and for some time, he was. Loneliness and anger kept him like the void he was brought from. It wasn’t until the sun cast light upon him that he became what he truly is, but people don’t call him such. Losing Gavin is turning him back to what he had changed from.”

“Oh,” Jeremy said again, lost for words. The acolyte gently pushed him towards the path.

“To the north,” she said. “And luck be with you.”

 

The crashing of darkness still came upon him when he broke the barrier, but this time it was dispelled more smoothly than before, like just before crushing him it realized something and hesitated, pulling away. It curled at his feet and visibly tugged itself away from him, clashing and twisting angrily around him but ultimately never touching him. Looking around, he noticed there was a light on the trees, a soft white-yellow that seemed to radiate mostly from him. _Oh_ , he thought to himself. _Ethereal_.

_Indeed,_ someone rumbled‒ not quite in his own mind, but not in his own ear either. _Don’t be afraid, Jeremy, it’s simply me._

“Ryan?” he figured, and the bodiless god chuckled.

_If not me, then who?_

A sleek raven managed to land on his shoulder, ruffling itself lightly. Although the moon wasn’t present in the sky, the feathers on the bird were reflecting a white light, making them pearlescent, shimmering almost purple in a false light. It cawed loudly and the two listened to the cry echo onwards, before Jeremy nodded. “On we go, then?”

_Lead the way, Jeremy_ , Ryan said, settling down on his shoulder. _To the valley_.

“To the valley,” Jeremy agreed, and hefted the bag up further and began to walk.

 

There was little warmth on the first day of travel. By what was actually night, frost coated the ground like a blanket, slicking the barely paved step-stone path and making the world a mirror to any light. The fire was hard to start‒ the wood was wet from the ice, but it still took the flint and steel spark and slowly began to burn, melting away the ice and leaving a wet patch of grass on the ground.

Ryan ruffled his feathers and curled into Jeremy’s hood, beady eyes sharp and attentive. The fire danced in front of the two of them, cracking the wood as it dried. He took some jerky from the pack and began to eat, slowly, but there was something in the back of his mind, singing for attention, calling like a siren to his magic.

_Why do you hate it so much?_ Ryan asked.

“Really,” Jeremy stated blandly. “You want to know why I don’t like using it, after what just happened.”

_Fair enough_ , Ryan agreed. _But considering you’re not like them, why are you against using it, if only for the good?_

“People don’t usually see the good,” he told him. “Just... the bad. The darkness of it. How it’s done, how it’s _practiced_. The people who practice it.”

_There’s a stigmatism around it, yes, but why not practice in silence?_

“There’s still something... telling about it,” Jeremy whispered. He finally gave in and pulled the knife from its sheath deep in his jacket. The runes on it flashed, welcoming his touch, but all he could stare at was the silver of the actual blade. His mind kept flashing images, memories, other things too‒ things that _scared_ him, sending dark shivers down his spine. “People just know, you know?”

_The cuts heal._

“The aura doesn’t.”

Ryan leant forward and rested the tip of his beak on the back of Jeremy’s neck, making him stiffen. _Someday, maybe, you can prove them wrong? Use it as you see the world. There are things waiting for you when you do._

Jeremy’s hands shook, but the knife seemed steady and comfortable in his grip. “...it _scares_ me.”

_It shouldn’t. It’s yours._

Nothing about that should have been comforting, but it was, in a strange way. Ryan’s voice, bodiless and almost omniscient, was surrounding him like another blanket, covering him with a weight that kept him calmer. It was almost the complete opposite of Gavin’s, however‒ deep and low, a gentle force that seemed cool and collected, almost cold. Gavin’s had always been high, and cheerful, full of literal life and joy and _warmth_.

Jeremy sighed, watching the flames climb higher, sparks and ashes dancing into the night. “We will find him, right?”

_Don’t doubt him. He’s resilient and persistent. He will be there, waiting, when we come._

“Right.”

_Don’t doubt yourself either, Jeremy. You’ve got quite a bit going for you_.

“People keep saying that,” Jeremy mumbled, playing with the sun’s pendant in his fingers. “I haven’t really seen it yet.”

Ryan laughed and pecked lightly at the back of his neck. _Be patient_ , he said. _It will come. Now sleep. I’m here to keep watch._

“Thank you,” Jeremy said, laying down to tuck himself into his bedroll. Ryan flew from his hood as he moved, going above him into the air, and as his head hit the ground Jeremy noticed the underside of his wings‒ they blended almost perfectly with the starry sky, reflecting it in each feather. The darkness fell upon the area and curled towards the fire’s edge. Jeremy didn’t want to close his eyes in fear of the flame going out, but sleep took him anyways, and pulled him into restless dreams.


	4. the moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh wow i. finished this bad,

Ryan was not as chatty as Gavin.

It wasn’t an upset, not exactly, and Jeremy already knew it would happen like this, but it still left a hollow feeling inside of him, turning over and over like a stone tumbling in a river. The weight on his shoulder was like the pendant on his chest, the rock in his pocket, the knife on his belt. The warmth of the charm against his chest made him shiver‒ every time he woke up, it pulsed with a flush of fire on his skin, and he had to stop and catch his breath.

Ryan noticed it one morning, catching Jeremy wipe at tears.

_You cared for him_ , the god’s voice echoed. _More than most ever would_.

“It’s hard not to,” Jeremy quietly reasoned once he composed himself, and almost _felt_ Ryan smiling.

_True,_ he said with amusement. _He’s something quite special._

“I wouldn’t...” Jeremy started, knowing how it was appearing, but Ryan only laughed.

_I know you wouldn’t._

 

The fourth night, just after a star appeared, Ryan came to him again, as human as ever. His cloak was now a mixture of color, like ink into water, the voided black almost seeping out of his cape at the bottom while a softer, gentler indigo had taken place at the top, dotted with stars that matched the ones above them. Pieces of his clothing were softer colors too‒ a navy vest instead of a dark grey one, white gloves with silver lining. He looked rested, too, the bags under his eyes nearly gone, his skin a healthier color.

“You look good,” Jeremy said, and Ryan smiled. “Different.”

“Rest and reassurance,” Ryan said. “To know where Gavin _is_ again, even if it’s just alive and on the plane of existence, safe, is a blessing to my sanity.”

“He is _safe_ then?”

“Of course,” Ryan told him, sitting next to him on the ground. “The gardens were made in our visage, for our protection. There’s two for him and two for me.”

“There’s a garden in the valley.”

“Jack tends to it,” Ryan said. “But Gavin won’t exactly be there, not at first. We might see him, and be able to hold him, but his mind and soul will be seperate from his body.”

“He’ll be... empty.”

Ryan paused before nodding. “Basically. His body sleeps. The fire returns him to his original state. It’d be dangerous to be near him in that time.”

“How dangerous?”

“Your bones would be ashes in no time at all.”

“Oh,” Jeremy said, and ripped into a piece of jerky with his teeth. Ryan laughed beside him. “You won’t stay in this form, will you?”

“It’s easier for me to stay as a bird, yes.”

“Well, my hood is always open.”

“How kind,” Ryan said drily. Jeremy laughed this time, loud and clear into the night.

 

Jeremy had picked up a walking stick at some point. He’d imbued it with botanist magic, crushed petals from the nightshades and a few other vines, as well as one of Ryan’s wing feathers that had dropped into his hood. It had quickly become more of a mage staff than anything, certain spells in the flora to protect the two of them from detection.

_Sigils might help_ , Ryan reminded him, and Jeremy only sighed.

“I don’t want to.”

_You’re being childish. We’ve discussed this._

Jeremy huffed and Ryan pecked his neck again, digging in with his beak. _If it’s a serious thing, I understand‒ it will only this harder on us._

“I know,” Jeremy mumbled, pulling the knife out and holding it gingerly. “It’s just... done a lot of bad things.”

_Has it helped anyone you know?_ Ryan asked, pulling away.

“...yes,” Jeremy said, running his finger along the blade lightly without breaking his skin. “I had a friend back in the school‒ he... he got in a lot of trouble, once, a lot of _physical_ trouble. He was really sick and he... passed pretty quickly. The rest of the school did their best, but...”

_They brought him back._ It wasn’t a question.

“They did.”

_Unnaturally?_

“Is it ever natural to bring someone back from the fucking dead, Ryan.”

_That’s fair, I suppose_.

“He wasn’t the _same_ afterwards‒ someone hadn’t used the right blood I guess, or something like that, and it just... haunts me. We still had to kill him. He still ended up _dead_ , so what was the point.”

_To test the boundaries of humanity. To test the barrier of your magic. There is a limit, naturally._

“No shit.”

_And you broke it all the same,_ Ryan hummed smugly. Jeremy was struck dumb for a second.

“What?”

_Even if he didn’t came back right, he came back. Suffice to say, you broke through, used something dangerous and did something incredible._

“It’s not _right_ ,” Jeremy cried. “It’s not okay!”

_No, pulling someone from the dead isn’t okay. Nor is sacrificing others, or using a type of magic to get people to do what you need solely out of fear. The premise of what the mages at that school isn’t morally sound, Jeremy._

Jeremy stood, shaking, the knife gripped tightly in his hand. Ryan came to perch on his wrist and stared at him with intelligent, beady eyes, bright and calm. _You can change that._

“Just me, though?”

_You’ve done this much, so far, haven’t you? Imagine this, then, if your doubt is so strong‒ blood magic to be the thing to bring the Sun back to his height, and home, and heart._ Ryan leant forward and Jeremy bowed his head almost as if he was pulled towards him. Ryan pressed the top of his head against Jeremy’s forehead and made a low noise. _You will change it, Jeremy. And the world will know it was you._

Jeremy laughed breathlessly and felt Ryan ruffle his feathers. _The sigils, then_.

“...okay,” he whispered, and placed the sharp silver of the blade against his palm. “Okay.”

 

“Tell me about the stars,” Jeremy said as he rested to heal.

Ryan moved his head from where it was curled under his wing. _That’s not exactly my place. I don’t know all of them well enough._

“The ones you make, at least?”

_Ah_ , Ryan hummed. _Those weren’t stars, exactly. Just... beacons. Small bits of magic in hopes that it could lead him home_.

“Right...” Jeremy said, pulling his cloak closer. “And the ones now?”

_Seamstress’ doing, no doubt._

“They’re good to you.”

_They’ve been rooting for us since the beginning. They’ve put the best parts of us into the sky‒ the archer, for instance,_ Ryan said, and pointed his beak towards the sky. The constellation was glaring above them, the tip of the notched arrow bright and beautiful. _One of Gavin’s greatest strengths._

“Really?”

_He can defend himself well enough. It’s quite incredible, actually. Many people attribute him to the sport itself._

“Fair enough,” Jeremy nodded, absentmindedly running his thumb over his staff. “What else is there?”

_The bull,_ Ryan told him. _Do you know of it? It’s not something I’m exactly proud of, but it’s a part of me as anything else. A long while ago, when it was just me‒ before Seamstress taught me to create fire, before I even knew they were truly alive‒ I had nothing to live on but the livestock of the Etherium, the grass and water and anything I was graciously given by the land. In my haste to build and thrive, my resources depleted quite quickly. Eventually all I was left with was a few precious stalks of wheat, an apple tree, and a single calf. It was a curious little thing and tended to wander‒ in order to keep it safe as it grew, I dug a hole and put it there. As it grew, it got too large to pull from the hole, so I treated the poor thing as kindly as I could. I think... I think, when humanity learned of it, they began to believe there was something dark in me for doing it. That, I believe, is what made people truly think I was what most blood mages praise me as._

“But you weren’t doing anything _bad_ ,” Jeremy insisted. “You were doing what you thought was right.”

Ryan seemed to smile. _And that, Jeremy_ , he said, settling back into the hood, _is why we think so highly of you._

 

As they traveled, Ryan appeared to him in a human form more and more often, the darkness of his cloak seeped away into a pale silvery white, like the moon had always been when Jeremy had watched it late at night before all of this. His skin was a healthy color and his hair, once ratted and choppy, thin like straw, was now a pale golden, long and thick and soft.

They would chat for what felt like ages‒ it was natural, despite Ryan’s comfortable quiet nature, how easily the conversation flowed. The Moon God was a good person to talk to, intelligent and funny and kind in some things, and understanding in many.

“How did you know you loved Gavin?” Jeremy asked him one night. Ryan gave him a curious look before he smiled.

“At first, I’m sure you know, I didn’t. It’s not to say I hated him, but part of me had wished he wasn’t there. I’d gone so long on my own that I didn’t see the point of having him here. A part of me must have _known_ , he was important‒ in the beginning, of course, there was no light. The world was uninhabitable, mortals barely lived and it was never for long. Gavin’s birth gave them a _chance_ ‒ a light and warmth to chase the sharpness of my cold.”

“Opposites attract,” Jeremy joked. Ryan laughed, and his cloak billowed slightly behind him. Jeremy shivered despite himself.

“Quite literally, yes,” Ryan continued. “Gavin and I... in a way, we were made to complement each other. Gavin brings the best from me, even if I couldn’t see it in the beginning. But then I spent _time_ with him‒ we grew together, with the world, with humanity, and I grew to see him for what he was, to the world, and to me. His eyes, and his laughter, and how he smiled‒ the sound of his voice, when he got tired, the feeling of his skin as it burned against mine when we brushed hands at a station. I began to associate things with him, the brightness of light against water, the smell of cooked apples and burning herbs. And one night...”

Ryan sighed and hugged himself with a smile, and Jeremy watched him carefully. The pendant was thrumming against his neck, out of sync with his own heartbeat, but, he noticed, perfectly in time with something around Ryan’s finger.

“He’s my everything,” Ryan said quietly. Jeremy looked back up at his face and saw a deep sadness there. “I can’t lose him, not‒ not like this. Not when I could have _prevented_ it.”

“Ryan,” Jeremy said, and impulsively took his hand. “What could you have done? They were keeping him from you, keeping him _bound_ here. If you did _everything_ in your power, that’s enough. That’s what you keep telling me, isn’t it? Whatever you could do, if you did all you could, it’s enough.”

Ryan looked at him carefully for a long, long time. Jeremy almost felt uncomfortable, but before he could pull away, Ryan squeezed his hand tightly and gave him a small smile.

“You’re really something, aren’t you?” he asked quietly, and before Jeremy could say anything else, Ryan let go and disappeared among the shadows.

 

_Have you ever loved someone, Jeremy?_

The question was unexpected. He stopped in his tracks and leant against his staff as he thought about it, acutely aware of Ryan preening in his hood. “I think so,” he eventually said. “I can’t exactly say it was love, but, maybe it could have gone somewhere.”

_You never found out?_

“The person... left. Before I could. And I couldn’t get them back.”

Ryan stopped. There was a heavy silence in the air for a while as the meaning behind it settled. _I see_.

“...yeah.”

There was a noise like swallowing before Ryan settled further in. _And is there another?_

The implications didn’t go unnoticed in that question, either. “I... think there might be. I’m not sure.”

_I see_ , Ryan repeated, and rested his head on Jeremy’s shoulder. _How did you... come to believe it was more?_

“I didn’t even realize,” Jeremy murmured, drawing sigils into the dirt with the end of the staff. “Honestly it just... didn’t dawn on me until, well‒”

_Until you lost him_ , Ryan said.

“Yeah,” Jeremy sighed. “But. Well, you _know_ , it’s... him. It’s just how he is, how he draws people to him, how he just warms you so completely, fills something in you that you didn’t even know was empty.”

_Oh, exactly,_ Ryan agreed. _He’s a wonder, isn’t he just?_

“Of course,” Jeremy said. “What god isn’t.”

Ryan was much more silent after that.

 

There was a hill that overlooked the path down to the valley‒ trees blocked the view past the golden wood fence, but the dirt that led downwards was lined with strangely colored rocks that glowed softly in the moonlight. The edge of the path became stone near the arched entrance, and the entire area gave an eerie feeling that settled nicely in Jeremy’s chest.

The pendant against his chest pulsed and a newer light encased him, dancing brightly down his arms like snakes and dissipating through his fingertips in a nice warmth. He took a deep breath and tasted the citrus and honey of a memory before taking a tight grip on his staff and starting the trek down the hill, smiling to himself at the sight of the shadows curling helplessly at the circle of light at his feet.

There was the sound of footfall behind him and he slowed down, letting Ryan catch up and fall in step quietly beside him. They nodded briefly to each other in greeting, but mostly walked in comfortable silence, making their way along the path. As they got closer, Jeremy noticed that the rocks lining the edge weren’t actually rocks, but _scales_ ‒ some bright blue, some a softer blue, another few greener than the grass they laid upon. They picked up the moonlight in patterns‒ swirls and spatters glowing unnaturally and warding darkness from the area, a magic in them.

“Dragon scales,” he murmured, and Ryan hummed in agreement.

“Jack works with them frequently,” he said.

“And the other one? Ramsey, I think they called him?”

“Ah,” Ryan inhaled through his teeth. “Geoff, yeah, uh. He’s not really up to... _dragon_ levels, yet?”

Jeremy blinked at him in confusion and Ryan shrugged. “You’ll.. see what I mean. Are you ready?” he asked as they stepped up to the archway. Jeremy could now clearly see the shimmer of a bright magic barrier arching from the fence. Swallowing, he nodded shakily.

Quickly, almost so quickly it seemed not to happen, Ryan grabbed his hand in reassurance, his fingers cold against Jeremy’s own, before he let go and stepped through, sending a soft ripple through the barrier.

Jeremy gripped the pendant, tightened his hold on his staff, and followed.


	5. the stars

At first, he was hit with an overwhelming scent of _shit_.

He choked on an inhale and heard Ryan chuckle to his side. “You get used to it,” he said. Jeremy started to open his eyes but had to screw them shut at the sudden brightness.

_Brightness_.

He forced his eyes open to adjust and couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face. It was _sunlight_ ‒ after a moment, he realized, artificial sunlight, created by botanist magic, but bright and flourishing, coating the area in a glow that Jeremy hadn’t seen in a long, long time. The pendant chimed softly, and Jeremy looked around.

The valley was, of course, surrounded by trees‒ a few had apples on the branches, candy red and shining golden‒ and they encircled the area completely, resting comfortably against the base of the mountain. In the center was a large, man made lake, with rivers branching out of them to split the land in six parts.

One part consisted of mostly chickens, running around freely in a fenced in area, many of them sitting in their little pens peacefully. Mirrored from it was a section of land covered nearly completely in fields of crops, with corn stalks that stretched almost impossibly upwards, and strange machines near the edges that seemed to be growing crops quicker than anything Jeremy had ever seen‒ as soon as they were fully grown, however, they disappeared into the attached piping, and a new plant began in its place. The section to the left of the farming area seemed to be shielded by another type of magic, and the one to the right of the chickens had a tall, dark obelisk that gave off a strong presence that Jeremy wasn’t entirely trusting of.

Completely across from them, on the other side of the valley closest to the mountain, was a small, one story wooden cabin, with a brick smoke chimney, and a small garden full of glowing white and purple flowers spackled just in front of the area. From what he could see, the lights in the cabin were out, and there was no fire burning.

A kind-looking bearded man approached them, dressed in a warm thick leather coat and rough denim. He had grass stains on the pants of his knees and burn marks on his dark gloves, and a smile. “You must be Jeremy,” he said, and shook his hand. “We’ve been expecting you.”

“Oh, uh,” Jeremy mumbled, blinking in confusion. “Yeah, thanks for, uh, having us. Me? Uh.”

“I’m Jack,” the man laughed. “Thank all gods you’re here, we almost ran out of time.”

“Out of... time?” Jeremy swallowed. “What‒ for what? Do you know where‒”

“Of course,” Jack said, and suddenly became very somber, looking behind Jeremy. Jeremy turned in confusion.

Ryan had stopped completely in the path, staring dead at the little cabin across from them. A cold wind brushed through the trees, and despite the magic, Jeremy shivered. _“My love,”_ Ryan whispered, and just beyond the barrier, the shadows curled away.

 

When they first opened the door, there was nothing but _darkness_. It almost scared Jeremy to see absolutely nothing again‒ and then Ryan stepped into the doorway, and the room was illuminated in a pale light.

There, tucked into the cold corner, was Gavin.

Jeremy choked on a breath, but Ryan rushed forward and picked him up, cradling him close. “He’s freezing,” he sobbed quietly. “He’s not supposed to be this cold, something’s not _right_ , darling, please, please‒”

“Ryan, here,” Jeremy whispered, and knelt down next to the two of them. Part of him expected the god to shove him away, terrified, frenzied, but Ryan only looked at him with wide, wild blue eyes.

Jeremy didn’t want to look at Gavin. Wanted to preserve the memory he has of a bright, golden figure, with a smile and a warmth and something that filled a hole in his heart.

But he had to.

And it hurt.

It _hurt_ to see Gavin so pale, so silent, with nothing indicating he was alive besides the slight shivers that happened so very infrequently. It hurt to see him with a silver scar across his neck‒ it hurt to see him so fucking _dead_.

Gently, as carefully as possible, Jeremy took the pendant from his own neck to put it onto Gavin’s. There was a moment when the magic lingered between them, heavy in the air, before it pulled from his fingertips and settled on Gavin’s skin when Jeremy did the clasp. The points of contact glowed for a moment and slowly the pendant’s light settled, and faded, spreading into Gavin’s chest like oil on water until he gasped quietly for a breath and curled closer to Ryan.

Ryan made a soft, low noise in the back of his throat and hunched over his husband, pulling him tight against his chest.

_Your job is done for now,_ the Seamstress whispered to Jeremy. _Let them have their time._

Jeremy pulled away, glancing back once to reassure himself.

As he closed the cabin door, a fire lit in the empty fireplace, and the room was bathed in light again.

 

Jack pulled him aside to the right, towards the shielded section of the valley, keeping his attention from the cabin and being careful in the way he walked. “Is he going to be alright, do you think?” the man quietly asked, and Jeremy shrugged.

“Depends on which one you mean. Either way, I can only hope they’ll both be fine.”

“I’ve only met them a few times in person,” Jack said. “They keep surprising me.”

“It’s a rough patch,” Jeremy told him, and Jack gave a laugh.

“I suppose it is, huh? Imagine the surprise we had at the sudden appearance of a god in the lake. Poor thing was completely out‒ it’s lucky Geoff was getting water, or we might not have been able to pull him out.”

Jeremy shuddered at the thought and took a deep breath as they began to cross the bridge. “So... you’re a demigod?”

Jack didn’t seem phased by the sudden change of subject. “It’s what people seem to call us. I’ve always been under the impression that the word ‘demigod’ meant a child of a human and god, but it’s just how it’s been.”

“Right,” Jeremy said. “And you weren’t always like this, right?”

“Nope!” Jack replied cheerfully, and pulled Jeremy through the shield around the section of land. He was suddenly bombarded with a million different sounds at once, and stumbled under the terrible loudness, but Jack continued on as if nothing was wrong. Looking around, Jeremy understood.

In the entire area were high fences, and different areas‒ glass boxes filled with water and lava, a section of off white stone and a part made of netherrack. On each of these sections and in the boxes were _eggs_ , large enough to go to Jeremy’s knee, a few of them shaking. Above each one of the eggs were two figures of their own type, brightly colored, glowing, with smoke from their nostrils and long, breathing bodies. “Oh, wow,” Jeremy said quietly, and Jack paused in the middle of it all with a smile.

“Aren’t they incredible?” he whispered. “Really, they’re amazing.”

“And you... train them?”

Jack shrugged. “Just one is truly mine,” he said, and held out a hand. One of the darker dragons came down towards the ground, landing just a few yards in front of them and shaking itself before calmly approaching. It sniffed at Jack’s hand and nuzzled against it, allowing itself to be gently pet. “This one is one of the original types‒ the ender dragon, more of a mythical type and race. Their kind was pretty rare for a while, but with a single egg and a few crystals I’ve basically rekindled their species!”

“That’s...” Jeremy trailed off, lost for words, as the young looking creature curled happily around Jack’s figure so casually. Jack smiled towards him.

“Yeah, that’s a normal reaction as far as I know. After the ascension, it got easier.”

“What was that like?”

“The ascension?” Jack asked, looking to Jeremy with wide eyes. “I haven’t really thought much about it, to be honest... It’s not painful, or anything, or at least it wasn’t for me. The truth of it is that after I did enough for the dragons, an elder being approached me and granted me partial godhood in exchange for a promise to keep to my title.”

“That’s all? Really?”

“Pretty much! And I honestly can’t complain‒ I enjoy what I do. I’m _good_ at it. The gifts I’ve been given for my devotion to draconic magic make this worth it.”

“What gifts?” Jeremy asked, and Jack laughed. They pulled away from the enclosure, Jack’s dragon moving away and spreading its wings out and flying upwards towards a resting place.

“Flight is a big one,” Jack mused. “And limited invulnerability, to most damage. If I’m wearing a certain armor I created I’m basically invincible to everything.”

“And you just have to take care of the dragons?”

Jack nodded. “And the garden, but that’s just to keep Geoff and I and any visitors alive.”

The passed into the area where the crops were growing. The fields were neatly kept, in rows upon rows sitting in the middle of a carefully crafted wooden area. There were clear blue rivers running through the field, keeping the soil moist, and the corn stalks green. Jack took a few ears of corn from one of the nearest stalks, holding one out to Jeremy, who took it gratefully. “You can’t live on meat forever,” Jack laughed, and Jeremy hummed his agreement as he shucked the corn and took a bite.

“What are these machines here?” he asked just as they passed them.

“They’re cloches,” Jack told him. “They take any seeds and speed the process up, growing them to fullness before harvesting the crop and replanting them.”

“That’s fucking neat,” Jeremy said, watching as a seed was dropped into the soil and the flower blossomed from it in seconds. Jack laughed and led him past the field to the front entrance again, letting Jeremy take the rest of the area in with wonder as he hadn’t been able to beforehand. Jack fiddled with his bracers as Jeremy explored, and they crossed the wooden bridge over to the farm, where the offending scent that had killed Jeremy’s fucking nose seemed to reside in permanence and full force.

 

“This is Geoff’s chicken farm!”

Jeremy spotted a man near the forest edge puttering around, picking up chickens and putting them down into little pens, writing on signs and placing them before moving on to the next few sets. He looked around for a bit before noticing Jack and he raised a hand in greeting, noticing Jeremy soon after.

“ _Who’s that_?” he called out, and Jack sighed.

“This is Jeremy!”

“ _Oh_ ,” Geoff said simply, grabbing a chicken and plopping it down into it’s pen before making his way over, occasionally sidetracked by a stray chicken or the contents of a hatchery’s holdings. “Hey,” he managed as he was finally close enough, wiping a hand on the side of his pants before holding it out to shake.

Jeremy took his hand and shook it cautiously, pretty sure he was well aware of what Geoff had just wiped off. Jack smiled kindly at Geoff and put a hand on his shoulder as the chicken farmer glanced around, not exactly paying attention. There was a moment or two of silence before Jack cleared his throat, kind of jostling Geoff a bit. “Do you... wanna tell Jeremy what you do?”

“Uh, yeah, I make chickens,” the man said, distractedly. He leant down and picked up a chicken with soft translucent feathers and looked up to Jeremy, a bit out of it. “I take two‒ I take two different kinds of chickens, and then I make ‘em fuck. And then they make a different new chicken that’s different than that was before.” He paused to think for a moment. “And then a lot of times that chicken will poop stuff out that people want. And then I’ll give it if I‒ if you ask for it. And then it did it and I’ll give it to ya. I’ll say ‘here’s the thing you asked for.’”

“Uh-huh,” Jeremy said, and Jack stifled a laugh next to him.

“And then, uh,” Geoff continued, placing the chicken down in a pen and moving about. “Then sometimes people will say ‘I need this,’ and then, but I don’t- that doesn’t- that’s not a _chicken_ yet. So I’ll take two other chickens and I’ll make them fuck. And then that’ll make a thing. And then, uh, then, uh‒ when that chicken grows up to be a, uh, big mom chicken, uh, it’ll fluh‒ it’ll shit out what the thing you need. It’ll give it to you.”

“I... see,” Jeremy said, looking to Jack, who looked like he was about to burst.

Geoff shrugged, moving back towards the back of the area, and Jack nodded when Jeremy looked over. _Follow him_ , he mouthed, and Jeremy shook his head but moved to do so.

 

“Can I ask what’s on your mind?”

“Hm?”

“You’re... a bit distracted.”

Geoff knelt down to pet a chicken that had blue feathers‒ it looked up at him lovingly, making little noises as it followed his hand for more pets. Jeremy watched Geoff’s face carefully.

“I haven’t. Known Gavin long, I guess‒ not in person, at least. But before this, I was a follower of the sun god, and I... knew, you know. I cared and I trusted because that’s how being a follower works. And then when I became _this_ I was in charge of the animals, and of certain creation, and I helped Jack all I could here. When I met Gavin in person, for the first time, you know what I thought?”

He paused and looked up towards the sky with the fake sun above them. “I thought he was too young to be a god. Too childish, too careless. He was so _young_ despite being so old. I just guess I... adopted him, sort of. He never said anything about it. And now to see him like _that_ ‒ to have woken up one day, in total darkness. My heart stopped. I was terrified of losing someone I cared so deeply for.”

Geoff pulled his hand away from his chicken and stood, taking his glove off to wipe at his eyes. “I don’t know what to do for him.”

Jeremy sighed. “I’ve been told that what you _can_ do is enough,” he said with a shrug, kicking at the ground. Geoff turned to him with a curious look.

“When I ascended,” he said quietly. “It wasn’t something big. I honestly didn’t think I was worthy of being a god in any capacity. I was literally a simple chicken farmer. That’s _all_ I was. But someone... took notice, I guess. When I fell off the cliff‒”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” Geoff said with indignation. “I slipped. But‒ when I fell, I was supposed to die, for sure, and I didn’t. I woke up, completely rejuvenated, and cows and chickens and all sorts of things just started following me around. They did what I asked, they _listened_. And I came here, and things... began happening, you know?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Jeremy said. “But what does that have to do with‒?”

“Sometimes you doubt yourself. Sometimes,” he said, and smiled as a large, beautiful eagle with a fluffy, feathered face came from out of nowhere, landing comfortably on Geoff’s shoulder as he put a hand on Jeremy’s arm. “Sometimes you shouldn’t, because there’s no reason to.”

Jeremy flushed even though he wasn’t sure why, and thanked Geoff for the advice. Jack approached the two of them, grinning, when he suddenly held up a finger as a thought occurred to him.

“By the way, Jeremy,” he said, reaching up to scratch at his beard. “I wanted to look into some botany magic. It would help stabilise the farm enough so that if something like this ever happens again, gods forbid, we’d have enough mana to sustain the area long enough and maybe even grow it, like a shelter of sorts.”

Jeremy nodded. “It’s a good idea‒ I used to... be a botanist, but...”

His gaze wandered to the next area over, where the tall black sculpture stood, meaning and foreboding but comfortable, almost. Familiar, in ways he couldn’t explain. The dagger whispered in his pocket.

“It’s not really... my thing, so much,” he laughed. “I have a friend, though‒ he’s new, but it’s promising. I can tell. If you’d like, after this is over, I can send him to you? He, uh. Might bring his wife, though. She’s kind of a hassle.”

Jack laughed and nodded his agreement. “I’d like to meet them both someday. You seem like a good guy, Jeremy, so if you trust this guy, I do too.”

Jeremy grinned. This was good, he thought. This was _good_ , things could work out‒

_Jeremy,_ someone hissed in desperation. _Ryan’s gift!_

He immediately pulled the stone from his pocket and felt it pulse and hum, wrapping it’s glow around his arm and up around his chest until it was pulling at him, tugging his heart in the direction of the cabin, over and over.

Jack and Geoff watched him worriedly.

“Jeremy?” Jack asked. “Is something wrong?”

“I’m not... sure,” he mumbled. “But I need to‒”

The stone tugged at him _hard_ , and thunder rumbled across the fields. Jack and Geoff jumped, and when they turned back, Jeremy was sprinting towards the cabin.

 

“It’s not enough,” Ryan said the second Jeremy stepped through the door. “It isn’t enough, he’s not‒ he won’t‒”

Jeremy was already out of breath but those few words took it all from his lungs and he choked on nothing as the realization hit him. _Too late,_ his mind screamed. _Too late, too fucking late, he’s gone and you’ve doomed the fucking world, the whole goddamn universe._

He pushed that thought away in favor of kneeling next to the two of them and putting a hand on Gavin’s cheek. Ryan was still cradling him close and when Jeremy looked up to him he noted the redness of his eyes, the streaks down his cheeks‒ how his hair was starting to get ratty near the ends and there were ink drops of black night beginning to stain his cloak again. There was a storm brewing in the blue and Jeremy tore his gaze away to look to Gavin again.

By all accounts, he looked asleep. His skin felt comfortable against Jeremy’s hand and was a light golden color again, a soft flush on his cheeks and traces of color on his lips. His chest rose and fell in a gentle rhythm and it made Jeremy smile, if only a little bit, as he ran his thumb across Gavin’s cheekbone.

But it was still _wrong_ ‒ Gavin was just _touches_ too pale, his skin wasn’t close enough to even threaten to blister Jeremy’s, and despite the golden magic running down his veins, he simply wasn’t healing.

“We haven’t lost him,” Jeremy heard himself say. “He’s still _here_ , he has to be.”

“His body is empty,” Ryan whispered. “It’s just a shell, it’s waiting, it’ll wait forever.”

“...no,” he mumbled, pulling away, and took his dagger from its sheath, running his finger along the edge. “No, there’s... a way. The curse, the curse they cast, it’s binding him, of course, every inch of who he is.”

“We know that,” Ryan said, confused. “But what...”

“I can...” he breathed in, slow, as the dagger spoke quietly to him, told him what to _do_. “I can reverse it. I have to go to the school, where they did it, I have to break the circle‒ a different... subject, different bood. His soul will be released again if I can get there. I have to burn the last of what they have.”

He looked up to Ryan again and saw the storm in his eyes subsiding, eyes brimming with tears again. “ _You_ ,” he breathed. “You wonderful, incredible thing.”

Jeremy flushed suddenly and looked down, sliding his knife back. “It’s the least I can do.”

“It’s more than I could ever ask,” Ryan said, and moved his hand from Gavin’s neck to cup Jeremy’s cheek and lift his head up again. “It’s so, so much more. I... have to stay here, or else I’ll become‒”

“Of course,” Jeremy nodded. “Yes, of course.”

Ryan’s hand was cool against his cheek and Jeremy covered it with his own.

“I’ll get him back,” Jeremy mumbled. “I promise you that. If nothing else, I’ll bring him back.”

“For the good of the world?” Ryan asked quietly, and Jeremy was struck silent.

“No,” he eventually said. “For the good of _you_. Of you both. Of your happiness.”

Ryan didn’t respond for a moment, only watching him closely with a curious look, before he smiled. Before Jeremy could think, Ryan moved his hand to the back of Jeremy’s neck and pulled him forward into a kiss, soft and quick, but something truly caring in it, leaving Jeremy’s heart pounding in his chest, his throat, his head. It was over before he could think and he pulled away, breath catching, and Ryan took the moment to press a hand to his chest.

“We are both with you,” he murmured with a quiet finality. “Seamstress, take him, please.”

“I’ll come back,” Jeremy said. “I promise, I swear‒”

The stars swept him away before he could finish, but he saw Ryan nodding, tears spilling over with a smile on his face.


	6. the eclipse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI sorry it's been a while i know but i finally got it done!!  
> hey here's a warning or two:
> 
> mentions of blood, self-harm, resurrection, and temporary character death.
> 
> this one was really hard bc i'm not a great one person writer but... i did it, i hope you enjoy!

The world came into focus slowly, the sky above him painted in clouds that glowed dimly in the endless river of stars running across the darkness.

“Thank you, Eternity,” he said quietly. A chime of delighted laughter echoed from everywhere and nowhere at once, dancing across the lights above. Ryan’s moonstone quietly hummed in his palm, keeping the ground around him soft and bright against the poking shadows.

Footsteps approached. The grass around him swayed in gentle winds, and he was at peace, for a moment, the severity lost on him, a second, if that, of rest. A face finally appeared in his vision, and he fought to clear the fog from his sight and mind.

“Hello again,” Dia said. “Heading somewhere important?”

 

She sat him down despite his insistence of the danger of the situation, brewing him a cup of tea from nightshade petals and orange peels. “There’s always time,” she said as he tried to explain. “Especially here.”

“ _You’re_ the one who told me to hurry‒”

“If he has his amulet, he won’t get worse,” she told him, her eyes down on the small wooden cups she’d brought. “It’s a state of rest. He won’t get better,” she said, and held out a jar of honey, “but he won’t get worse.”

She dusted something on top of the steaming tea, a light powder that sat on the top, and handed him the mug without looking up.

“...was I too late?” he asked quietly after a long silence. “Can he really be saved?”

“You doubt yourself,” she said, and then nothing for a while as she sipped slowly at her own tea. He drunk some of his own but stopped when it burnt his tongue, grimacing at the bitter taste. There was another comfortable silence before she eventually set her cup to the grass.

“Is it warm?” she asked out of the blue, digging into her bag and pulling out a small loaf of fresh bread. He took it gratefully but furrowed his brow in confusion.

“The... tea?” At her nod, he shrugged. “Yeah. Actually it’s.. a bit _too_ hot.”

She looked up at him with a smile, and he inhaled sharply at the new glow in her eyes. “Then you aren’t late at all, are you?”

“There’s still fire,” Jeremy guessed, and Dia nodded again. “There’s still a chance.”

“Of course,” she told him, and placed a warm hand on his cheek. “You’ll start where you need to be, Eternity has made sure of that.”

“Excuse me?”

Dia laughed, high and clear, and squeezed his hand as she pulled away. “Wake _up_ , Jeremy.”

 

He did.

This time on hard gravel and stone‒ a pathway, he assumed‒ and his gaze was turned upwards again. The moon was missing from the sky still, but the north star was just as bright. Lightning rumbled across the storm clouds, and Jeremy laid confused for a while.

_Ryan’s calm,_ he thought. _So why_...

He sat up and turned, and noticed dark stone pillars, broken and crumbling. They lined the path he was on, leading up to a obsidian stone wall and a large, threatening gate that would open its doors only to the damned‒ jesus, it was like a depiction of the entrance to the oldest biblical hell.

Behind those gates was where he had to be. A castle, of course, because these fucking assholes would have nothing less than that, repurposed, reimagined. Dark stones that were cracked, but sturdy, carvings of sigils and signs lining the walls beneath barred, high windows, above doorways and along ledges. Chalk marks lined certain bricks, and dark, shriveled vines climbed towards the endless expanse of night. Jeremy, despite himself, shivered.

He’d spent a long portion of his life running from this place, on it’s little island so far from the rest of the world, and all its terrible secrets and powers it held, but he’d always known he’d eventually return in some way.

This was the school of blood mages. This was where Gavin’s soul still resided.

 

Part of Jeremy expected himself to be more nervous as he pushed the gates wide open, the marks on the thick iron glowing in response to the ones on his dagger. The magic of the place wasn’t quite like the magic of Michael’s town, nor the magic of the valley‒ it settled deep in him instead of washing over him, storming throughout him and curling darkly around his lungs, his stomach, his heart.

The worst part of it, he thought as he continued along the rocky path, is how comforting it felt, like coming home in the worst kind of way.

The storm above him crashed loudly, traces of Ryan’s frustration echoing across the courtyard surrounding the academy. Jeremy pulled his cloak closer to himself for the semblance of protection it gave.

About halfway across the yard, a thought occurred to him. He made a split second decision and turned immediately to his left, towards a grove of dying trees with markings in the darkened trunks, near the outer wall.

 

_“If you’re not careful,” Matt laughed, “they’ll catch you sneaking.”_

_“Speak from experience?”_

_“Maybe,” the guy said with a wide grin as he pulled away the leaves, and they cut their palms together and slipped into the cellar doors._

 

The cellar was coated in cobwebs and dust, but the familiar things were still there‒ a pair of makeshift cots, a few mason jars, some lidded and full of various trinkets and liquids that he knew quite well. Journals and papers and ink spilled across unsteady wooden tables, with old pillows on stacked boxes for chairs. Scratched out spells were rolled up on the bed near the left side of the bunker, a thin bone stained at the tip laying carefully on the old wool bedding.

Jeremy reached up and ran his fingers over one of the support beams, feeling scratched out grooves on the old wood spelling out in runes his name.

He knew, on the other side, Matt’s name was carved too, each of them done by the other’s hand.

This was home, once‒ the dorms and the people in them had never been forgiving to the two of them and their views, and their professors had done nothing about it. This was their sanctum, their safety, the only place they could do the things they knew blood magic was capable of. The _good_ it was able to do.

A wave of nostalgia hit him at full force and he almost sat down on the bed before catching himself, instead steading himself on the wooden beam again as he caught his breath. Matt was still... somewhere, he thought. Still alive somewhere, suffering maybe, but _living_. In its sheath, the dagger hummed along, whispering urgency, whispering _need._ Jeremy sighed and pushed himself off the beam, wiping his face off and taking a long breath.

“Okay,” he whispered to himself, and searched through a pocket or two looking for a scrap of fabric. He found something and used it to dust the table off, flipping the pillow on the makeshift chair over to a cleaner side, and sat down, placing his face in his hands. “Okay, okay, okay.”

He took a long moment to compose himself‒ his breath was coming slowly and in stutters, emotion blocking his airways and blurring his vision and thoughts.

“Okay!” he sighed, and unsheathed his dagger, placing it before him on the table. “What the _fuck_ am I doing, holy shit.”

He looked around the room again and spotted an old map of the school laying near the corner of Matt’s cot. “Tracking spell,” he mumbled. “Tracking spell, shit, shit, alright. I know this.”

He stayed sitting in the seat for a couple of seconds.

“I don’t know this.”

The dagger tugged at his consciousness and he turned back to it to pick it up. Immediately the spell flooded to his mind‒ the vile of potion he needed, the sigils and runes required, and the amount of blood that had to be used. “Oh,” he mumbled. “Right.”

This was part of the sacrificial dagger‒ to hold things, to tune itself to the mage who would wield it, to become what the mage _required_ to perform their spells. Something was trapped in the dagger, maybe just a very strong magic, maybe something otherworldly, but the fact was this.

The knife, in essentiality, was some type of _alive_.

Jeremy began to scour the shelves of mason jars, looking over the various liquids, searching for the ingredients, trying not to think about the shake in his hand, the must in the air that was clogging his lungs, the lingers of familiarity in this place.

He grabbed his things‒ a jar of liquid obsidian, the bone pen, a potion of invisibility‒ and dipped the pen into the obsidian, swirling it around absentmindedly in the thick darkness as he reviewed the runes in his mind again. With an unsteady hand he began to trace the sigils on the desk, mumbling the incantation to himself as he did. The spell began to glow on the table and the dagger nearly quivered in place, begging for him to finish the job.

He grabbed it by the handle and quickly sliced across his palm, hissing at the familiar sting of the blade but feeling that familiar warmth run over it just as quickly, the cut healing as fast as it had been made. The daggers were made for the owner‒ it couldn’t harm the person who would wield it save for the few sacrifices they would have to take from themselves.

The second his blood hit the center of the runes the spell lit up, and he felt like his entire soul was thrown from his body. His eyes were open, he knew, but he couldn’t _see_ from them, not in the way one would be able to. He needed to focus, now, on something to help him find what he needed.

He focused, and remembered‒ the fires he’d kindled, the cloak he’d worn, the torch and it’s halo against the biting darkness. Golden eyes, golden hair, golden skin. White cloth and a single scarf, bright, metallic, swept away by the wind. A giggling laugh, soft breath, kind smiles. _Warmth_ , in its entirety, surrounding him, seeping slowly away‒ but the god still there, still with him, his heart a rhythm the world unknowingly followed.

_Alive, alive, alive._

His vision shifted, and he saw his body jolt in it’s seat before everything shifted into a quick blur. He was pulled away into new surroundings that were familiar in the way that made his heart ache in good ways and bad.

Resurrection hall.

The daggers of the fallen lined the walls in the center hall of the school‒ a mock shrine to the lost and forgotten, a hall of fame for the mages that had lost their lives doing their research, despite their age, despite their morality. He knew this hall from walking in it, praying in it, wishing to god he could have undone what he had been a part of. His vision glanced briefly at Matt’s knife, as it always did, before focusing solely on what he needed.

Cameron’s dagger‒ and the stain of Gavin’s blood still on it.

He was thrown violently in his body as the dregs of the spell faded, but his heart raced in his chest.

Destroy the knife, he told himself. Take him _back_.

Easier said than done. So, so much easier said.

“Gods, give me strength,” he murmured, and heard thunder rumble outside.

 

The cellar had an attaching hall that led into the kitchens‒ empty, at this hour, the staff in their beds. Jeremy made quick work of the cupboards, scanning for anything useful before moving on.

_Out the hall, through the door, past the dorms and classes. Out the hall. Past the dorms._

Dorms. He’d hated the dorms. He’d always fucking hated the dorms, hated the school, past what it was, what it represented and allowed. He’d hated it for the prison it felt like, the people he’d been with day in and day out, what they thought of what they did, what they thought of what they would be able to do if they ever came to their full power. If there was any good that came out of this, it was Matt.

 

_“Listen, Jeremy,” Matt said, digging his fists into his sheets. Jeremy rolled over in his own bed to look at him, propping his head up with his arm to watch. “This is it. This is our final stand. If I‒”_

_“What the fuck does that mean, this is our final stand?” Jeremy snorted. “We just got here.”_

_“I’m trying to be dramatic.”_

_“You sound like an idiot.”_

_“Fuck you, man! I’m trying to do an ‘if I die here’ speech and you are ruining the moment.”_

_“Why the fuck would you die here, Matt‒”_

_“I don’t know,” the other man said, suddenly turning very somber. The quiet of his voice made things seem a hell of a lot more tense and Jeremy looked over to him again in worried confusion. “But like, doesn’t something seem off here? Even with what it is, it just feels... wrong.”_

_Jeremy opened his mouth to say something but closed it soon after, furrowing his brow. Matt was silent for a second or two more before he looked over and snorted loudly. “Dude, I’m fucking with you.”_

_Jeremy huffed as Matt laughed at him and threw over an extra pillow. “Shut the fuck up and go to sleep, Bragg.”_

 

Memories, Jeremy found, often had terrible fucking timing.

 

The door to the hall was loud and creaking, a terrible heavy old thing made from dark wood of the dying trees in the front, stained with long forgotten spell paints and the ritual newcomer oath‒ cuts on the palm to mark new life for new death. Jeremy brushed his fingertips over a few burns in the wood, knowing full well that was where he had placed his when he had first come here. Searching. Desperate. Hopeful.

He sighed and slipped through the crack in the door. As wide as it could go without making too much of a noise. And as soon as it shut, the room was plunged into complete darkness‒ no torches or windows to let the light in, no magic to keep the place visible.

The stone in his pocket became heavy, and cold, and Jeremy yelped, moving to pull it out and toss it towards the center of the room.

It did not touch the ground.

Ryan’s gift sat hovering in the air, a soft pale glow shining from it’s surface, the tiniest spot of visibility in the room. It was then Jeremy noticed the protective glow he had been given had finally, finally faded, and the shadows were curling in the corners, but they all kept away, knowing their place. Knowing to keep away from their savior.

The moon sat with Jeremy in the hall of the dead, and begged for him to find their missing sun.

Each pedestal held the name of the person who had used the dagger, had lost themselves to the power or to something far worse. As he started towards them, Jeremy noted the tiny moon followed, revolving slowly around him, providing protection and light to read the etched metal.

_Where are you,_ he thought, and a small, sad part of him knew that for once in this room, he wasn’t thinking of Matt. Each dagger he passed dredged up old feelings, old hurt, and then it came.

 

_“Holy shit,” he hissed, grasping at the already healing wounds on his own arms. “No, that wasn’t right‒ what did we do?” he asked, wide-eyed, up at his professor, who was smiling for all the wrong reasons._

_“We managed it,” the professor said, and turned him around to a truly horrifying sight._

_“Oh, gods, no,” he whispered._

_Matt was... alive, in a sense. In a very loose sense. He was awake enough to move, to breathe, to cower on the floor from the people who had brought him back into a probably painful existence._

_Jeremy moved to help him up, and Matt flinched back, looking up to him in terror with glassy grey eyes, empty of any familiarity. Jeremy choked._

_“We didn’t do anything,” he hissed. “We fucking failed.”_

_“To no such degree, Dooley,” the professor said cooly. “The boy is alive. The experiment worked.”_

_“That boy was my friend,” Jeremy hissed, a dangerous warmth flooding in his veins. “And in no way a fucking experiment.”_

_“You’ll find it best to watch your tongue,” the older man began, but Jeremy suddenly yanked the chain around his neck and sent Matt crumpling back down into silence._

_“You’ll find it best to watch your back,” Jeremy growled, and slammed the door as he sprinted off from the school, his dagger tucked deeply away in his pack for many years to come as his friend last breaths haunted him._

 

Swallowing his sob and blinking back tears, Jeremy took a few steps forward, letting his fingers linger on the sharp edges of Matt’s name before his hand fell away and he took a slow breath. The moon hovered slightly before moving forward towards the new pedestal and began to revolve around that, faster and faster, impatient and desperate. Jeremy stopped before it and read the plaque.

_Cameron Scot,_ the metal read. The dagger glinted with streaks of red that should have been something dark by then.

Jeremy took the dagger from it’s place and felt it fight against him weakly‒ it’s owner was long gone, by then, and it put up very little as Jeremy took his fingers and wiped the blood from the blade.

The reaction was nearly instant. A shockwave of magic seemed to explode as soon as his hand left the silver of the dagger, warmth curling through him to the deepest parts imaginable and taking his heart, wrapping it in comfort and promise.

“You can go home,” he whispered quietly, and dropped his glove to the center of the sigil that covered the main floor of the room. “Soon, Gavin, you can go back.”

There was one last thing he had to do.

 

Resurrections were not simple‒ everything required something equal in exchange and Jeremy desperately hoped that he had enough. The sigil in the center was primed for what he needed. The glove with the blood was enough, as was Ryan’s moon, and his dagger would be all he had left. The door to the hall was locked, the entrance was as well. He would wait for star’s calling. These things had precise timing, especially _this_ one.

Especially Gavin.

There was a clocktower in this school, still timed perfectly with what they needed it for. It started to chime and Jeremy took a deep, slow breath, feeling his heart pound fiercely in his chest.

_“For the good of the world?”_

The bell rang steady. His breaths felt short.

_“No. For the good of you.”_

The dagger in his hand sang quietly to him, tried to steady his shaking hand, shifting and slipping in his grip.

_“I’ll come back.”_

The last bell sounded. The clock ticked over, and Eternity’s star blossomed into the sky above him in the sky he couldn’t see, but the whispers of the god told him on their own. He let a soft breath out and whispered a prayer he’d known for years, for endless amounts of time.

“In the absence of light, a world is falling, devoured unwittingly by the unavoidable dark of the lost lover’s desperation. In this circumstance I offer this to save him‒ to save them‒ to save humanity, and the earth that we have been born to, as a prayer and hope, so that the light may live and come again.”

He raised his dagger up and felt his heart slow. “In respects to our Sun, our flame, our god, I give myself in body, heart, mind, blood, through and through, I give my soul, for yours to return. In respects to you I give my life, so that you can grace the world again.”

He smiled as he felt the magic around him. He had known. He had always known, somewhere, for however long, that this was his prayer. For infinity times infinity, he had known.

“You are the savior, and I am your sword.”

His dagger struck true at his heart.

 

The world stopped for him, paused as he fell forwards, and he could not feel or see it’s end.

 

 

 

Six hours after Jeremy fell, the sun rose again.


	7. the dawn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi welcome to i had all of this chapter written except the end paragraph for _months_ and i'm so sorry
> 
> i'd like to think we're one chapter off, tbh

It was... really hot, in the afterlife. Uncomfortably hot. The warmth burnt through his skin to his bone, it felt like, scratching at his very core.

Jeremy groaned in discomfort and rolled over onto his side, pulling at the thin fabric that clung to his chest through his sweat, taking deep heaving breaths of hot air that scratched his throat. As he moved a sharpness stung his chest and he scratched at it, annoyed, before he remembered and shot up in sudden shock.

The world around him was mostly dark, a thick fog of smoke and such settling in the near distance‒ around and beneath him were cliffs and ravines of a deep red stone, warm to the touch but crumbling easily under his fingers.

And deep, deep beneath him, around him, flowing from above him and around him, was thick, bright magma, lava, sweltering heat pouring off of them and casting this world into an eerie glow.

He pulled at his shirt in the area that was still stinging, looking around in confusion. Was this... hell?

“What the fuck did I do to deserve to go to hell?” he mumbled, picking himself up and dusting himself off.

“Nothing at all,” someone said behind him, and he felt his breath catch as he turned.

The man wasn’t facing him‒ he was sat in front of a thick pool of lava that was pouring slowly off the edge of their little ‘island,’ his feet dipped in up to the knee as he looked out over the empty world. There were lines of light along his veins, ash coating the roots of his hair and dusted along his neck and back, but little dancing flecks of fire that played around him like they were alive. They might as well have been, as they made their way closer when Jeremy approached, happily playing in the air around him.

_Golden eyes, golden hair, golden skin‒ golden scarf, golden chains, golden heart._

“Oh, Gavin,” Jeremy whispered, and the Sun turned to smile at him.

“Hello, Jeremy,” Gavin murmured, and it was like music. “You’ve had quite a trip, my sword.”

Jeremy laughed quietly in disbelief, falling to his knees and feeling tears run down his cheeks. “You were there,” he managed.

“Every step,” Gavin told him, with a smile brighter than anything. “You are amazing, Jeremy, truly.”

“Don’t say that,” he whispered, sitting carefully next to Gavin. The god touched his arm gently, pulling him close and letting Jeremy rest his head on his shoulder. The warmth suddenly became bearable, from a sweltering flame too close to a dry summer day.

“Why shouldn’t I say something that’s true?” Gavin hummed, dropping his hand from Jeremy’s back. “You’re done something incredible, Jeremy, you raised a _god_.”

“But... you’re here,” he said in quiet silence.

“Yes, I am,” Gavin laughed. “This isn’t _hell,_ Jeremy, this is a home.”

“Oh,” he realized, in a moment of quiet contemplation. “ _Oh_.”

Gavin was still laughing as he sat back and let it continue to process‒ this was Gavin’s _other_ domain, his true kingdom.

“ _Why_ here, though?” he eventually said. “Are you trapped?”

“For a while, yes, I was,” Gavin told him, curling his legs back up into himself, and looking out over the vast expanse of his domain, red and flaming, bright in a way he wasn’t. “But not here. Somewhere between existence and nothingness, between everything and nothing. I don’t know what to call it. I think I saw my twin there.”

“Ah,” Jeremy mumbled. “Your‒ Eternity, right?”

“Yes,” Gavin hummed. “I think it might have been theirs.”

“What was it like, there?”

There’s a long silence. “I don’t know,” Gavin eventually said, and Jeremy turned to see him wide-eyed, confused, vaguely terrified. “I don’t remember.”

He started to shake, despite the heat, so Jeremy took that as a sign to steer the conversation back to what it had to be. “And why are you here now?”

“To heal,” Gavin smiled. “To mend and restore myself again, so that I can go home.”

“Will you be long?”

“I shouldn’t think so. By the time you go home, you should be in daylight again.”

“Good,” Jeremy laughs, and it’s a wonderful thing, to laugh again. “We need our sun god.”

Gavin regarded him kindly, but confused, watching him as he turned to smile back.

“Do you think I am a god of simply sun?”

“No,” Jeremy said, and tilted his head in confusion now as well. “You’re a god of many things, aren’t you?”

“Ah,” Gavin said quietly. “ _Things,_ not quite.”

“I...” Jeremy sighed. “I don’t think I understand.”

“It’s easy to lose track,” the god said with a smile. “I’ll explain best I can.”

Gavin reached forward again and let his legs carelessly drop into the bright bubbling magma. Jeremy watched him closely, ready to pull him up‒ keep him safe, if he needed. Because he would.

“There are no gods of _objects_ ,” he said, dipping his hand into the thick lava and pulling it between his fingers. “No god of dragons, or livestock, or masks, cats, dreams. To be the god of a singular object implies the singular task of creation of those singular things‒ to watch over them and decide their fates, individually, for the rest of forever.”

There was a moment of quiet between the two of them, the cries of some type of lost soul echoing in the distance, before he smiled. “No, we are all gods of _ideas_ , of ways of life, of intangible things that affect each living thing. We are gods of vitality, and simplicity, of courage and chaos and belief. The first gods were true gods of destruction and creation, of death and of life, of the basics of the world.”

“Of light and darkness?” Jeremy asked.

“More like... of happiness, of joy, of trust and love. And of belonging, discovery, curiosity, and family.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. “One for eternity, and... one for rebirth.” He turned to Jeremy with a smile. “For sacrifice.”

Jeremy couldn’t find it in himself to ask what that really meant, but he had the feeling, not unlike when he’d first met Gavin, that he already knew.

“I think it’s past time you go back home,” Gavin said after a bit, pulling away. Jeremy took his hand and Gavin looked down with a smile and squeezed.

“I wish I could stay,” Jeremy mumbled. “I wish I understood.”

Gavin laughed. “I wish you could stay too‒ the understanding part you’ll get to once you leave.”

“Will I, though?”

Gavin’s laughter echoed through the Nether and Jeremy couldn’t help but laugh too, a gentle warmth blossoming in his chest as the sun held his hand. After a while, Gavin sighed the last of his laughs out, reaching out and placing a gentle hand on Jeremy’s cheek, squeezing where their hands were linked again. “If you were so incredible then,” Gavin hummed. “You’re going to be even more so now.”

Jeremy flushed and mumbled, but before he could get any words out, Gavin was closer than ever, brushing their lips together for just a moment and making Jeremy freeze.

“Go on then,” Gavin said against him. “We’ll meet you there soon enough.”

And then he slipped into the pool of lava in front of him, effectively disappearing, and leaving Jeremy alone again.

 

Jeremy wandered the Nether for a while, the endless maze of near insufferable heat that it was, searching for his way out. It came to him in the form of a dark structure, obsidian built upon stone, and grey rock scattered across the area, around the gateway. His dagger sung in his pocket, across worlds, echoing around in his blood, and he hummed along.

“The last of his flame, then,” he said, and placed Gavin’s gift upon the tiniest hollow at the base of the structure, brilliant gold upon dark glass black.

The second his hand let go, there was a flash of blinding, brilliant fire, and then the darkness of the obsidian was coated in an unnatural purple light‒ violet magic filled the opening and swirled like smoke, calling to him in a way nothing else had.

A last gift. A way home.

He stepped through without caution, feeling the portal magic cling to him and tug at his clothing before letting him slip through‒ like fabric, almost, curtains draping across a window.

Cool air met him as he stepped down on the other side into darkness, and before anything else, collapsed to the ground. He rolled over and watched the dark portal dissolved into nothingness in front of him, fading to dust and disappearing into the night sky through the trees.

The forest was dark around him, the leaves beneath him soft and cushion like, and his body and mind were still drained from events before.

Jeremy slept, comforted by the sound of his own beating heart, and by the warmth that lingered on his lips and across his chest.

 

“Hey, dipshit.”

Jeremy groaned and rolled over. He rubbed his eyes and held a hand up to block the brightness until a shadow fell over his face and he blinked, struggling to look up at the person above him. Someone laughed quietly off to his right.

“The fuck you doin’ napping in my‒”

“Shh, look closer.”

“...Oh, shit, Jeremy?”

He grunted in a quiet response of an affirmative, not completely awake yet, and the figure crouched lower, becoming more recognizable. A spatter of freckles across a pale face, unruly copper curls that covered his head‒ “Michael?”

“Hey, man,” the botanist said, grinning. “The hell you doin’ in my garden?”

“...wha...”

The second figure‒ Lindsay‒ helped him sit up, a hand resting on his back to keep him upright as he caught his breath. “Where am I?” he mumbled.

Michael shrugged. “Middle of the Draconic Forest. Bottom of the valley you were going to.”

“The... valley? The _valley!_ ” Jeremy rubbed at his eyes and looked at Michael in shock. “The hell do you mean, the valley? Jack’s valley?”

“Ah, yeah,” Michael said. “It is kind of Jack’s garden isn’t it?”

Jeremy stared at Michael and saw, in the light streaming through the leaves above him, newer things. Twigs and petals were tucked messily in between curls, dirt marring parts of his skin, grass stains mixing in with the freckles. His ears were pointed, and his eyes were nearly glowing‒ small, pink lights appeared at his back, at random, and Jeremy laughed in disbelief. Michael stared in confusion.

“Well,” Jeremy mumbled, looking at the newest god, “Ryan did say you were on your way to bigger things.”

 

Michael and Lindsay steadily guided Jeremy on the path towards the opening of the valley, the scattered dragon scales a familiar sight, along with a few new plants blossoming between the cracks of rocks, white petaled daisies glowing in the soft darkness of the overgrown trees and dark belled nightshades hanging low around the archway’s bottom. The veil of magic was a familiar and welcome feeling as they passed into the area and Jeremy sighed in relief.

Jack came up with a smile from his side of the area, holding out a hand that Jeremy took gladly.

“It’s good to see you again,” the bearded man said, and Jeremy smiled.

“It’s good to see you too.”

The draconic god’s smile diminished at the stressed tone of Jeremy’s voice and took him from the couple, gently guiding him over the bridges towards the cabin. “You need rest. This much magic on your body is taking it’s toll.”

“Magic? I’ve never had a problem with magic before...”

“Jeremy,” Jack said with the tone of someone talking to a child. “You revived a god.”

“Ah,” he said quietly. There was a silence before he blinked in realization. “That was real then?”

Jack smiled. “The sunlight isn’t fake this time, Jeremy.”

Jeremy had nothing to say about that.

Jack ushered him into the cabin, settling him down on the bed and pulling his cloak away to hang on the bedpost. “Take a long rest and then we’ll talk about what happened‒ show you where your stuff is.”

“Stuff...?”

“Every ascension is different,” Jack murmured, placing a cold cloth‒ where had he gotten that‒ on Jeremy’s forehead. “You went through a hell of a trial to do it, but.”

Jeremy wanted to ask more but sleep was taking a steady hold on him once again, and he fell asleep looking towards the window, the towering dark structure just in his view.

 

“Gettin’ real fucking tired of this sleeping thing.”

Jeremy slipped out from under the covers and sat on the edge of the bed, taking a deep breath of the valley air before opening his eyes. In front of him was the window, the dark structure standing in his sight, but he got distracted by the dust specks dancing in the sunlight.

The _sunlight_.

He held his hand out and watched the light coat his skin, the gentle warmth a familiar comfort and bringing him to quiet tears.

“Good,” he whispered. “Good.”

He stood up and grabbed his dagger without a second thought, tucking it into it’s sheath and opening the door to the valley. The air was now permeated with better smells than just chicken shit‒ roses and lavender mixed with the fertilizer and earth, as well as furnaces churning with charcoal and melting ores. The barrier of magic around the garden was clear and glassy, like an open window, and Jeremy smiled wider under the bright blue of the sky.

Off to the side came the sound of heavy beating wings, and Jeremy turned as Jack descended, slipping from his dragon’s back and moving forward to meet him.

“Are you feeling well?”

“Well _rested_ , yes.”

Jack laughed. “It’s good to see you up and alright. Are you done, do you think?”

“With what I started, yes. But for the rest of it, I don’t think I can leave quite yet.”

“No one was asking you to,” Jack said softly. “You’ve got things to figure out first.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

“Do you... have an idea? Of what you are?”

“More than an idea,” he said, his dagger singing it’s pride. “I have it... from the source, so to say.”

Jack nodded with a knowing smile. “How do you plan to start?”

Jeremy took a deep breath and glanced upwards again. “I’m not sure.”

“That’s alright,” Jack said. “You have time.”

“It’s strange.”

“What is?”

“Not having that constant stress of impending doom.”

Jack laughed loudly, placing a hand onto Jeremy's shoulder to steady himself as he _kept laughing._ Jeremy couldn't stop smiling, feeling the sun on his skin once again, the familiarity of it somehow much better than he ever remembered it being before. He supposed it had something to do with what he knew now.

_Who_ he knew now.

"Good morning," he said quietly into the open skies. "Welcome home."

And if he listened closely over Jack's laughter, he could hear a pair of voices in the wind, happy as day, echoing the sentiment back.

Rolling his eyes, his smile grew. "Go take a nap, Ryan."

**Author's Note:**

> my [tumblr](http://transvav.tumblr.com)  
> 


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